A to M and Beyond
by Seamagik
Summary: Response to nickeldime17's challenge to play the alphabet game; use her prompts to create a whole 'nother series of M/A one-shots. COMPLETE
1. ABCD

A to M and Beyond

* * *

A/N: Response to nickeldime's challenge to play the alphabet game; use her prompts to create a series of M/A one-shots… Only hope I can live up to her standards, because she's so ridiculously talented I'd throw cookies at her in loving tribute if only I knew in which direction to throw… (mental image- ow, my eye! Ermm… sorry nic, you know I love you?) This is just for a bit of fun and because I was kinda curious what my brain would come up for someone else's prompts... it's a waaaaay different process than writing off your own prompts (in which you can change the title if the imagery doesn't fit. :) )

Ratings

A- Gratuitous, cliché, hard M. Nothing classy about this one. Hee.

B- K+

C – K

D- K

* * *

_Anything_

* * *

"Strip."

"No way in hell," She scowled.

Alec sighed, rubbing tired eyes. "Okay… let's go over this one more time. Good buddy Alec has agreed, _graciously_, to help you out with your Ordinary infestation." Max glared, and Alec looked up, frowning. "Though why he did, after you brought it on yourself with that little handholding up on the roof, is beyond him, but hey, he's still a good guy and is willing to help out a friend."

"Good guy, ha!"

Alec talked over her, ignoring her exclamation of disbelief. "So when you came to said good guy Alec, and told him he had to keep up with this charade, tell me what you said you were willing to do."

She mumbled something.

He cupped a hand to his ear, blinking innocently. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Anything." She repeated, scowling at him.

"That's right," He snapped his fingers in amazement, as if he'd just been reminded of her promise. "_Anything_, you said…" His gaze narrowed. "So strip."

Max's jaw firmed. But she reminded herself that this was for Logan's own good. And for T.C.'s as well.

Logan, clinging to the hope that Max's little handholding stunt had inspired, had yet to move out of T.C… And that was just _not_ working for Max. The bagged blood that he was becoming increasingly dependant on, the blood that kept him immune from T.C.'s toxins, should be stockpiled in case of emergency. The space that he used for his new Eyes Only mission control room could house another family of transgenics. The time that he didn't demand, but that she gave to him anyway, was time that she could be focusing upon the hundreds under her command… And that wasn't even going into all the fear of touching and heartbreak that seeing him evoked within her.

Alec, for his own part, was positive that Logan knew his and Max's 'relationship' was a sham. Sooo… the guy needed a show. A definitive one. And Alec was gonna give him one… And then as soon as the poor bastard was gone, he'd find the nearest willing X-5 and fuck her senseless, because pretending to be Max's boyfriend these last few weeks had taken a real toll on his sex life. No matter that the only girl he really wanted to fuck was-

He shifted uncomfortably. "So, are we going to do this thing, or what?"

Max glared at him, the moonlight filtering through the high, grimy windows doing nothing to soften her features. "Turn around."

Obligingly, he turned. When the sound of fabric moving against skin became too much, he pulled his own shirt from his head, attempting to block out the noise that was borderline erotic. He kicked off his boots and his jeans, ignoring the feel of the cold tile beneath his feet. Their clothes were strewn together in a messy pile and he toed her bra to the top of the pile, thinking it was a nice touch. Max had already turned on the shower, and was huddling in a corner, glaring, by the time that he stepped in, his boxers still securely on his hips.

He leaned against the shower stall, eyes falling shut as he let the warm water coat his skin. Working up the nerve to touch her. Max watched droplets collect on his thick lashes for only a moment before looking away.

"What time does Logan usually show up?" He sounded tired.

"'Round midnight." Her hands had yet to drop away from her naked breasts. She wondered, again, how he'd talked her into this. Was she really so desperate that she hadn't really considered all the _looking_ and the _touching_ that was gonna be involved? Well, she wasn't gonna let this turn into a peep show. As it was, she thanked God she'd chosen the black panties instead of the white this morning, or Alec'd be seeing way more than she was willing to share. Not that Alec had even looked at her, yet.

"How do you know he'll be here?"

"We've never officially talked about it or anything." She admitted, frowning. "But I heard him mention he'd be here to Luke… loudly." She made a face.

Alec glanced sharply at her, but his gaze very noticeably didn't waver from her eyes. "Does he know you heard him?"

"Yeah," She hissed in sarcasm. "He was okay with it though, 'cuz I told me how I needed to fake having sex with you to get him out of my hair. He promised he'd show up on time, after that."

Alec didn't have the patience or the energy to snark back. Just kept looking at her, face expressionless through the cascade of water.

"Of course he didn't know," Max shifted uncomfortably, unnerved by Alec's silence. "He thought I was still with the X-6's." God, she wasn't _stupid_.

Well, she must be, 'cuz she'd agreed to Alec's little stunt. But still…

T.C. didn't have a lot of water hook ups, thanks to the state of neglect it'd been left in for such a very long time. Only a blessed few had running water. Most didn't, and were forced to use whatever they could find. The denizens of Oak Street often fell back on this abandoned gym's communal showers. There was some semblance of privacy, thanks to the chest high tile dividers between each showerhead, so it was a relatively popular place.

Which is maybe why the showers were also a notorious place to stumble upon lovers in the middle of a midnight rendezvous… (That and Max suspected a lot of X-5's were closet exhibitionists, based upon a few veiled complaints she got, mostly from Logan; hence, why he'd proclaimed his desire to shower that night in a loud voice in the middle of command) Her exhibitionist theory was only further backed up by the fact that she only rarely got complaints from other X's. In any given week, the transgenics that were the targets of ribald comments and knowing smirks were more often than not the ones Logan would drop disapproving hints about.

Max and Alec were currently in the furthest stall from the door, wedged in the corner, draped in shadows. The darkness would work to their advantage. Only the most rudimentary movements would be needed to back up her vocal performance.

"Well, let's get this party started." He pushed away from the wall, advancing on her. He didn't look down, couldn't look down and remain a detached participant in this charade. As it was, watching the water cascade around her shoulders, her dark hair plastered to her head, was bad enough.

"What?" she squeaked, backing away from him, wedging herself further in the corner, escaping the spray of the water. "It's not midnight, yet."

"Right, because starting _after_ he walks in is so much more believable." His eyes flicked over her face in something akin to distaste. She didn't know that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the situation, so mockingly close to something that he really wanted. Her jaw firmed, but her arms remained locked around her torso.

"Fine," She hissed. "But I'm kicking your ass later."

He rolled his eyes, crowding into her personal space. She swallowed, her confidence falling away as she let her arms drop slowly. Alec didn't even look down, just let his arms brace on the wall around her. Looking at the water running in rivulets down his chest stirred something within her that she'd prefer to ignore, so she glanced up, caught his flashing green eyes, a testament that he wasn't as comfortable about this as he'd pretended when he'd first suggested the idea.

_Don't look down_, he reminded himself, right before he leaned into her, pressing a hard, punishing kiss just to the corner of her mouth, even though she'd specifically told him _no kissing_. He pulled away, only slightly, arms still braced next to her head, close enough that his breath washed across her face. "The things I do for you," He whispered in disgust.

"This was your idea," She hissed back, feeling a little bit small and a bit disgusted and a bit… unattractive.

His reaction was confusing her. Was she ugly or something? He might as well have been made out of stone for all the interest he seemed to be taking in her near nakedness.

She forgot what she'd been thinking as he pressed another bruising kiss against her mouth. And then another, one hand fisting in her wet hair, angling her head to accept his punishment, the probing of his soft, silken tongue in direct contrast to the hard force of his lips. When he pulled away, her mouth would trail after in disappointment before she'd realize it and make her head stay put.

When her gaze had refocused and her shuddering gasps had calmed, she looked up to see Alec's narrowed eyes, gleaming cat-like in the soft darkness, watching her in interest. She wondered how her hands had ended up clutching at the wet skin of his sides. She snatched the traitorous appendages away from him. He was still leaning into his arm, pressed against the wall next to her head, but suddenly there was something decidedly more lazy about his stance… something almost predatory.

For the first time, he let his eyes dip down and she felt her entire body warm in response to his gaze.

"Weeell, Max." He drawled, his eyes taking their time in their path back to her face. "Look what you've been hiding under all that sado-masochistic leather."

Her eyes narrowed in loathing and she yanked her head from his grasp, ignoring the tug of her hair through his fingers. "I hate you."

"I know."

She paused, unsure what to make of the angry defeat in his statement… Then all thought was silenced as he lifted her against his body, slamming her back into the tile divider. She gasped as her back protested in pain, but her legs wrapped around his waist. She scowled when the sharp ache had faded and her nails raked deep in retaliation, leaving trails of fire across his back, making him hiss. He reared away from the divider, turning to shove her into the opposite wall and she'd grunt as all the air was forced from her lungs.

Later, she wouldn't be able to say exactly when things had gotten out of hand. Probably had never really been in hand to begin with… But it could have been when he tried to press another punishing kiss against her mouth, but she turned her head away, sinking her teeth into his ear instead, because she'd _told_ him no kissing. Could have been when he'd clenched his teeth in agony, grasping at her breast in painful retaliation to get her to _let the fuck go_. She'd released his ear, whimpering, and he'd loosened his hold, stroking tenderly, just for a moment. Immediately, her heels had dug into the small of his back and he'd arched against her in pain. She took the opportunity to clamp her teeth into the skin of his neck. He'd changed tactics after that, hitching her higher on his waist, grasping her ass, pressing hard into her, began making the movements that hopefully would make Logan think he was seeing something vastly different than two transgenics trying to bloody each other.

It only took a few seconds of Alec's taut, slick stomach rubbing rhythmically against her for her teeth to loosen a bit as she sucked in a shaky breath through her nostrils. It'd been a mistake, too, because then he was in her nose, he was all around her, and she didn't know how to escape him; to escape this surreal mockery of lovemaking. She'd finally released his flesh altogether, biting her lip and leaning away from him, trying to escape the feel of him through the too thin cotton, her hands searching desperately for purchase in the wall overhead. The first cry she'd made hadn't been as fake as she'd originally planned.

"Fuck, Max, don't do that." His voice was pained as his fingers tightened on her ass and he paused, trembling slightly.

"Sorry," She said hoarsely, her eyes still shut, her arms overhead… and then wondered why she was apologizing. This was his damn idea.

"You good now?"

Her tongue was thick in her mouth and it was all she could do to nod. Still couldn't lift her heavy eyelids. Couldn't bear to look at him.

"Time?"

Her eyes snapped open, her arms falling back around his shoulders, as her gaze swept over the far wall above the doorway. "Clock says 11:59." They'd only been at it a minute? Felt like an eternity…

"I hate you," He said, wishing it were true.

"Likewise." She hissed, wondering why it hurt.

"Good."

She tried to grit her teeth against the rhythmic sensation, but her whole body was happily ignoring her, heating up and igniting and burning despite the water falling around them. Her skin was tight… too tight for her body, which is maybe why she clutched at him a bit harder, pressed herself closer to him, why she made another one of those whimpers that threatened to bring him to his knees.

Alec hadn't lost the use of his legs, but he did lose his powers of sophisticated speech. "Fuck, Max. God…" As he buried his face into her wet hair and his movements became more jerking, less controlled.

She made a huge mistake… She said his name. In that breathy, hitched whisper, she said his name. His mouth crashed against hers and she'd let it and part of her had been happy for it. His hand had shoved the sodden panties to the side and she'd been glad for it. And the gasp that escaped her lips when he encountered the slick heat that had nothing to do with the water cascading around them would bite off into frenetic moans as he'd probed, and prodded, and his fingers had slipped inside easily.

To this day, remembering the way her head had lolled back against the tile and the side of his face had pressed into her collarbone… how he'd clenched his eyes shut at her throaty cries, his body jerking, mimicking the movements of his hand… well… it was still enough of a reason to call him to her office and have him lock the door behind him.

Orgasm had been a sudden, unexpected explosion of white behind her eyes, an event two years in the making. Alec had bitten his lip so hard he drew blood as her body went rigid, clenching around his fingers. Afterwards, the look of awe in his eyes had been a hard thing to ignore.

And Max never would be entirely sure whether or not Logan had walked in on them. All she knew was that a day later, Logan couldn't look her in the eye as he told her he'd be moving back into the city.

Well, she said she'd do anything to push Logan away. She just never thought 'anything' would have included something that'd earn her knowing smirks from so many X-5's.

* * *

_Brick _

* * *

His name was Brick, and Alec believed that his head was probably about as thick as his namesake's. And probably just as porous.

Coincidentally, a brick is also kind of what Alec wanted to hit the guy with.

"How many times do I gotta tell you, I didn't sleep with her." Alec rolled his eyes. "I wasn't even here that night."

"Yeah, well, Jessie sez it wuz you."

Jessie pouted in the background, a picture of wounded innocence. Oh… now he remembered her. She'd come on to him the night before and he'd brushed her off. Blonde hair wasn't really his thing anymore. Guess this was her less than subtle attempt at retribution, siccing her muscle-bound boyfriend on him. But why the guy would be pissed at _him_ and not at her was something Alec didn't completely comprehend. Ugh. Ordinaries.

"What's going on?" Max plopped on the stool next to Cindy.

"Hot Boy been scouring the field again and snagged hisself a chickee that already had a coop." O.C. turned back to her beer, shaking her head in disgust.

"He did _what_?" Max's head whipped back round to glare at the unfolding drama. The guy was in Alec's face now, poking him in the chest. Alec was just staring blandly back, but she could almost feel the waves of his ire beginning to rise.

"Last Saturday, took her home or sumptin'… That's what he gets for-"

"That's impossible." Max interrupted, ignoring the relief welling within her.

"What?" Cindy looked up from her beer.

"He couldn't have been with her last Saturday."

"And _how_ would you know that?" Cindy turned bodily to face her friend, an eyebrow lifting. But Max had already gotten out of the chair, making her way to the bar.

"'Scuse me." Max said loudly.

The two men turned to look at her.

"You're blocking the bar," She said sweetly. Alec rolled his eyes.

"Stay outta dis, girlie." Muscle-bound oaf turned back to Alec, dismissing her. Okay. That's it. Boot to the head for this guy… Then Max took a calming breath. People were too jumpy lately. Couldn't blow her cover over some retard with too much testosterone.

Max turned wide, unblinking eyes on Alec. "What's going on, honey bun?" Alec almost choked as Brick looked again at her in suspicion.

"You know dis chump?"

Max giggled, wrapping her arms around Alec's. "Course I do! He's my boyfriend." She looked up at him, pouting into his flabbergasted expression. "Hoooney, this is why I don't like coming here on Saturdays. It's too crowded. We shoulda just stayed at home, like last week."

Brick's eyes narrowed in suspicion, glancing back at his girl. By the time the larger man had turned back, Alec was looking at Max, his face fixed in a syrupy expression. "Youse twos was together last Saturday?" He asked.

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," Max sniffed, squeezing Alec's arm between hers. He pretended like he couldn't feel her breasts moving against him.

"Yeah… yeah." Brick was nodding, glancing again at Jessie, whose face was draining of color. "Scuse me." He turned his back on them.

"Jeez, Jess, what did I tell youse last time? You _want_ me to go back to prison?"

Alec slumped in relief as the two moved away, arguing heatedly.

Max ignored them, shaking her head as she released his arm. "What is it with you and trouble?"

"I dunno, _honey bun._" Alec snarked. He leaned over the bar. "Mitch! Two, straight up."

Her eyes caressed his back. "You're getting started early." Her face fell into neutrality as he turned to look at her.

"Long week." He grunted. Max shrugged, moving away. She stopped as she felt his warm fingers close around her wrist. "Max," he started, softly. "About last Saturday-"

"I told you," She interrupted firmly, pulling her hand from his. "It was a one time thing."

He picked up the shots, holding on to one and offering her the other. "Well, to no repeats then." He raised his glass in a toast and downed the liquid. She stared at him for a long moment before throwing back her own.

Brick was the type of wall he'd have her pressed against half an hour later. The hard surface at her back was almost as much of a turn on as his hard body, melding so intimately with hers.

At least it was until-

"Max, is that you?"

Alec pulled lazily away from her mouth, ignoring the way her hands were shoving desperately at his shoulders as she tried to push him away. He didn't budge.

"Oh, hey, Logan. Slumming it again, I see."

A brick is kind of what Max wanted to hit Alec upside the head with.

* * *

_Cold_

* * *

"Ummm… Max?" He blinked in confusion.

"Hey, Alec." She cranked up the heat.

Rather than go for the more obvious questions, like, what the hell are you doing in my apartment, he started with something a little more pressing. "You realize, that unlike you, I actually pay bills?" He frowned, watching the little temperature gauge start to climb.

"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard." A liiiiiittle more to the right. Yes. She leaned back into her heels, beaming. Perfect.

"Got a set up with Rocko, the slumlord of this particular slice of heaven. He doesn't report me to the cops, I pay rent and utility bills. Which includes heat. Which if isn't on 90, probably will be soon." He frowned again, shaking his head in bewilderment at the thermostat before turning to look at her. "Seriously, why are you here again?"

"Heating's down in our building. So we figured we'd stop by."

"We?"

"Hey, Alec."

"Oh, hey Cindy… hey, what? Cindy?"

"And, we're gonna be staying with you for a bit." Max talked over them both. Yeesss. Heat. It'd been sooooo long. No more breaking out the sweaters on her way home. No more hunching against the icy air as she walked _in _to the apartment. Max wondered why she hadn't thought of crashing Alec's sooner.

"Can't… can't you go to Joshua's… or Logan's?" Max ignored the tinge of desperation in his voice. Really, after all she'd done for him…

"Joshua's place is negative three on a good day." O.C. snarked. Okay, so it wasn't really that bad, but it was still far from comfortable.

"Well… what about Logan? Eh, good ole' Logan, he'd probably love some bonding time!"

"Yeah… _Max_." O.C. stressed. Why were they in this dump when they could be in a penthouse?

Max sniffed, flouncing away from them both. Cindy and Alec exchanged a glance. Guess that meant she must be trying to avoid Logan again.

Must be a Tuesday.

"But… But I have _plans_." Alec realized he sounded a bit whiny, but he just didn't care.

"Don't let us stop you." Max threw herself on his couch. Turning on the TV._ His_ TV.

"But I have plans _here_." He watched in annoyance as O.C. made herself similarly comfortable.

Two pairs of eyes turned on him, unblinking. Max sneered as O.C. let out an "Ugh," of disgust.

"Well, cancel 'em." Max finally said. "Unless you want to romance your gal pal on the couch."

"You can't just come into my home and kick me out of my own bed!"

"Too late." They turned back to the TV, leaning against each other. His heat, his bed, and now his couch! All stolen most horrendously!

"Scoot over." He scowled at Max.

"Sit on the floor." She snarked.

O.C., ever the peacekeeper, rolled her eyes, scooting closer to Max, making room for Alec on her other side. She patted the worn green felt. "C'mon, boo, plenty of room for you over here."

Alec sniffed, sitting with as much dignity as he could muster. Max scowled at Cindy. Alec tried to lean over and grab the remote but Max held it far from his grasp. He added his TV to his list of things most unjustly usurped. He shoved himself back into the cushion, scowling.

An hour later, Alec was sprawled in the corner of the couch, taking up space as much as possible, arm across the length of the back, Cindy leaning into his chest. Max was as far from the two as she could get, scowling as dourly as a dowager.

"She kinda reminds me of Asha. Short, blonde hair. Kinda pixie like-" O.C. and Alec had been comparing notes on the female cast for the better part of the hour, and it was starting to grate on Max's nerves.

"No one cares, Alec." Max snapped.

O.C. and Alec turned to look at her. "What?" She asked, hunching into herself.

"Mmhmmm." Cindy fixed her with a knowing smirk.

"And since when were you two all chummy?" Max muttered, feeling suddenly conspicuous, huddled alone on her far cushion.

"Cindy and I share an appreciation of the female form." Alec sniffed.

O.C. rolled her eyes, sitting up. It was like babysittin'. "You got any snacks in this place, Hot Boy?"

He gestured at the kitchen, oblivious, as always, to any mention of his prettiness. O.C. pursed her lips, pushing away from the couch, wondering how smart it was to leave the two of 'em alone for even a moment. "Play nice," She warned them both as she headed towards the kitchen.

The room descended into silence, only the sound of the TV to distract them from the sudden absence of their peace keeper.

Max scooted over, took O.C.'s spot. But only because she didn't want to have to deal with the gag-worthy vision of them leaning into each other again. O.C. was supposed to be _her_ friend. It's not because she'd felt left out or anything. Alec didn't take his arm from the back of the couch because he'd been here _first_. It's not because he _liked_ close proximity to Max or anything.

Max's elbow dug into his ribs.

"Knock it off." He hissed.

"Move your arm." She retaliated, leaning into her elbow.

"Go back to your side, loner. It'd be easier on all of us."

Max frowned.

"Boy, all you got is pork rinds and whis-" O.C. stopped, staring at Max.

"What?" She asked, removing her joint from Alec's ribs. He breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing the sore spot.

O.C. shook her head, sitting next to her friend. "If you'd felt left out, all you had to do was lean on me, sugah."

"What? No! I just…" She glanced between Alec and Cindy, watching her. She huffed in annoyance, "Forget it." She made to stand, but came crashing back down as Alec yanked her wrist. She fell back into the couch, crashing against his chest.

"You were just cold. We know."

She pursed her lips, but finally figured it'd be easier to just stay where she was, relaxing into Alec's side, her head pillowing against his shoulder. O.C. scooted closer, lifted Max's legs into her lap, and the three turned back to the movie.

The thermostat remained at 80 for most of the week. Alec had to pay out the nose when Rocko came to collect his money at the end of the month.

But it was worth it.

* * *

_Daughter _

* * *

Max had been married at the tender age of 21. It had only been a few short months after they'd raised their flag… The cult's high priestess took a shotgun shell to the head and the war seemed to have deflated overnight. They'd finished off White, shortly after. Everything just seemed to… fall into place. Just like she'd always told herself she wanted.

He'd proposed, not with a ring, but with a cure. And the enthusiasm with which she'd accepted had silenced most of the doubters… most of them.

Almost nine months to the day, she gave birth to a little girl. She'd asked Alec to be the girl's godfather.

He'd accepted.

And he'd left town, shortly after.

She'd been surprised. Hurt. Months earlier, on her wedding day, he'd told her he loved her. But she'd blown him off. "You don't know what love is." He'd been hurt and she'd known it, but she told herself she was making the right decision. The safe decision. The wise decision, because Logan's child was already growing within her womb.

Still, part of her thought he'd never leave…

"I'm not a dog to be fed your scraps. You have a husband. You have a daughter. Why do you want me to stay?"

"You're… you're my friend."

"No, I'm your _pet_. And it's old, Max. Real old."

The girl took after her mother. Dark hair. Tan skin. She'd almost been scouted by a childhood talent agency, because her liquid blue eyes were so striking in her exotic features. She was an only child. Logan didn't see the point of having any more. Truthfully, Max didn't much either.

Alec visited occasionally. He always brought gifts for Marissa, along with stories of exotic locales and unbelievable adventures and beautiful women that left the girl on the edge of her seat. He never brought anything to Max, except maybe for a "Hey, how are ya?" and a few minutes of small talk before he unveiled his latest gift for the girl. And he absolutely never talked to Logan. After the first couple of visits, Logan found ways to make himself scarce when Alec was around.

Time never faded his beauty, only tempered it. It was weird for her to admit that he was beautiful… but Max was older and wiser and her youth seemed like a frivolity wasted. She was in her 30's, almost 40, still young, really, but not nearly as young as she'd used to be. Still gorgeous, as Alec would occasionally wink, before he relegated her back to his past and Max ignored the aching disappointment.

Logan was in his 50's, pushing the middle mark, if they were completely honest. The age gap that had seemed negligible when she was younger was getting harder to ignore. It was no big deal though. They'd accepted a long time ago that they didn't have a great love, it wasn't the passion that people wrote songs about. It was gentle and it was friendly and it was warm and the kind of fiery passionate love that people wrote romance novels about didn't exist anyway. Besides, just because they weren't passionate was no reason to get a divorce. Really, for most of the year, Max was quite happy with Logan. It was just… always a little bit harder in springtime.

Alec was a bit of warmth, too, with his unannounced visits… sunshine on her doorstep. The only time she could be absolutely certain of seeing him, though, was in the spring. He _always_ visited in the springtime. And Marissa always brightened when it came time for the visits that Alec actually called ahead for.

Really, Max should have expected it.

"Mom, how old were you when you and dad got married?"

"I was twenty one." Max would say, then glance sharply at her daughter. "Young. Too young to be married."

Should have known because the questions always came with the March winds, the winds that brought Alec to their door. "And how old was dad?"

"Young enough… why do you ask?"

"Mom, how old is too old do you think?"

"Why, did you meet a new boy?"

"No, just curious, I guess."

Max's eyes would widen in understanding the year that Marissa turned sixteen. The year she kept hounding her mother, asking when Alec would be coming. When he finally made his appearance, his newest gift for Marissa wrapped in tissue, hidden behind his back, she'd launch herself at him, hugging him a little bit longer than strictly appropriate. Alec didn't notice. Dense as always. But Marissa listened to his stories and batted her eyelashes and exclaimed over the beautiful Parisian dress and Max watched on.

She'd catch his arm as he was leaving. "Maybe… maybe you shouldn't visit for a while…"

"I'm only in the States for a few more weeks." He'd blink in confusion. "Won't be back until the fall, this time."

"I think… I think Marissa might have a bit of a crush on you."

Alec paused, staring at her for a moment in confusion before his eyes would widen in understanding. He laughed softly, glancing down. "Figures. The mother has no use for me, but the daughter…"

Max's eyes would narrow. "Don't even think about it."

He recoiled from her. "Don't be gross, Max. She's like my niece. And unlike some men in their 30's, I don't a have a thing for teenagers."

She ignored the dig at Logan, holding open the door. "Goodbye, Alec."

He'd pause at the doorway, his lips pursing, and Max was reminded that he really did care for the girl. "Tell Marissa… Ah hell, don't tell her anything." And he'd close the door behind him.

Breaking the news hadn't been pleasant.

"But when will he be back…"

"We think… that maybe… he shouldn't be around for awhile."

Marissa's liquid blue eyes had frozen to ice as understanding had hit. "You mean _you_ think."

"Honey, he's much too old for you!"

"The age difference isn't that much different from yours and dads!"

"You're only 16!"

"That's old enough!"

"It's just a _crush_, Marissa!"

"No it's not, it's love!" She'd exclaimed, in that dramatic way of teenagers.

"You don't know what love is." Max shook her head sadly.

"Well, neither do you," Her daughter would hiss, turning away from her mother. Max didn't know what to say to that so she'd just grounded the girl instead. Marissa didn't speak to her mother for days. Then Jimmy Cartwright asked her to a dance and in her euphoria everything was finally forgiven. Max had breathed a sigh of relief.

Alec resumed his visits the following year. Everything seemed fine once more. He hadn't forgotten the previous year, though, and he pulled away from the hug before it could linger too long. Max hadn't forgotten either, because she was in the room for the entire visit. The only one that seemed to have forgotten about the crush was Marissa, who must have put Alec back into his 'coolest godfather ever' category. She spent a lot of his visit exclaiming over the hand-made Japanese fan and telling Alec all about Joe Petrelli, the school's quarterback, and her current boyfriend.

On second thought, maybe Marissa _wasn't_ really over him, because she almost seemed to be trying to make Alec jealous. He was a good sport about it, though, letting her know that he'd bust some heads at the first sign of funny business. Max had rolled her eyes because the statement had reminded her of the old Alec, _her_ Alec, the one who'd run around in jeans and leather jackets and was always ready with a cocky grin… not the well-traveled, Armani wearing stranger that wore Alec's face. But Marissa had giggled after he'd said it, solidifying in Max's mind that the girl was still very much enamored of the older man.

He'd pause at the doorway as he was leaving. "Will you ever trust me?"

"What do you mean?" Max asked.

"I'm not going to ravish your daughter. You don't have to babysit."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

Alec fixed her with a knowing look.

She snorted, and felt like she was twenty, again. "Well, ya always were a ladies man."

"Emphasis in that statement being on _ladies_. Not on little girls." He shook his head in disgust. "Jesus, Max, don't you _trust_ me?"

"No." It was supposed to be a joke, but they both stopped to stare at each other at the honesty that shone through.

"Maybe… maybe I shouldn't come by anymore." He'd reach for the doorknob, but her hand over his would make him pause.

"And that's exactly why I don't trust you. Romantically or no, Marissa cares about you, Alec… I don't want her to be hurt when you leave."

"I always come back."

"Not always you don't."

"What are you talking about? I'm back on your doorstep every year." His eyes bore into hers, his voice thick with exasperation.

Max bit her lip, glancing away. Yeah, he was back on her doorstep, but he never came back for _her_. He'd left her behind a long time ago. Alec's eyes softened as her gaze turned back to him.

"Max… what… what are you trying to say?"

"Hey, mom…" Marissa would stop in the doorway, her eyes glued onto her mother's hand over Alec's. Max told herself she had no reason to feel guilty, she hadn't been doing anything wrong, but she snatched her hand away anyway.

"Is that why Dad hates him?" Marissa had sneered, later that night.

"Alec and I have been friends for a very long time, Marissa." Max didn't even look up from the vegetables she was chopping. "Longer than you've been alive. I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"You never look at Dad like that," Her daughter had sniffed, flouncing away. She hadn't been grounded, because Max wasn't sure what cause she would give Logan for doing so. But the knife had lowered and Max had stared hard at the countertop for a long time after her daughter had left.

Max loved her daughter. Desperately. Totally. Completely.

But sometimes… sometimes she wished the girl had been born with hazel eyes.

Alec came again in the winter and he smiled a bit sadly at her. Then he turned back into a stranger, and stepped aside so he could introduce his fiancée. And Marissa's wasn't the only heart in the room that broke.


	2. EFGH

From A to M and Beyond

Seamagik

A/N: No vignettes this time. Bwaha, I love E. The style is so much more Season One. And even if you've never read Anita Blake (hell, I've only ever read the first book), I urge you to take a jaunt to my livejournal to read G because I don't put anything in it that'll be too confusing to Laurell K. Hamilton virgins.

Ratings –

E- T

F- T

G- T

H- T

* * *

_Enough_

* * *

Heat is a strange thing. Creeps up on you slowly. First, you sleep a bit better. Until dreams of hunky men make you sit up in shock and mutter things like 'Alec isn't that flexible.'

If your name is Max and you happen to be crashing on Logan's couch at the time, waiting for night to fall so you can go on a mission, similar awkwardness might ensue.

Next comes the sweating and the tingling in… delicate places. Oh, fine. All places, really. Like someone peeled your skin off, threw it in a dryer, shrank it two sizes too small, and stretched it back over your bones, leaving you twisting around in discomfort, looking for something to rub against.

If you happen to be near a man you're not supposed to touch, that might be a problem. Days later, Max could almost find humor in the memory of Logan waving a sauce spoon at her threateningly as she advanced.

Then comes the want. The _need._ And part of you is _sure_ no amount of fulfillment will ever be enough. Positive that _nothing_ would ever be able to scratch the itch, quench the fires. But hell, you're so ridiculously horny, you're willing to give it a try anyway.

Even though you've never met a man who's been able to slake the thirst, you're _still_ willing to give it a try, still hoping that this time it'll be _enough_.

Hell, more often than not, Max jumped the nearest guy only to creep out of bed feeling not only dirty, ashamed, and embarrassed, but also achingly disappointed and unfulfilled. Still, a girl's gotta hope for something. Especially when said girl is in the grips of her DNA and is feeling all raunchy.

Alec had actually shown up on time for the mission for a change. He was just letting himself in the front door as Max was making herself walk out.

Something crackled in the air as their eyes met.

Alec had never seen Max smile in that lopsided, slow manner before, but he liked it. A lot. Liked it so much he crossed the distance of the front hall fairly quickly, only pausing slightly as she jumped on him, her mouth slanting hungrily over his.

He'd have her shoved all nicely against those weird screeny thingies that Logan kept putting up, despite the way they kept knocking them down with their weekly fighting, when a loud voice would interrupt.

"Okay, that's enough!"

Two heads snapped around, two pairs of eyes glared angrily at the interruption. It was a testament to Logan's maturity and calm that he didn't take a step back.

"You guys really don't want to do this." He warned them. For their own good. And for his own good, too, because watching her cling to Alec was breaking his heart, even though he knew it wasn't really her.

Max almost came to her senses. Almost. And then Alec's lips curled a bit into his teeth as he looked at Logan and he honest-to-goodness growled. _Growled_. Max tuned Logan out after that, preferring the scent of Alec's skin, the feel of Alec's fingers, the hardness of Alec's body, and most importantly, the sound of Alec's growl, to whatever the hell Logan might have to say.

Joshua and O.C. must have raced at supersonic speeds to get there after Logan had contacted them, because Max and Alec had yet to progress to those damnably in-the-way pants when their friends came in. Maybe 'cuz Alec was taking his time with her mouth. Licking and nipping and sucking… Okay, seriously, why were their pants still on?

O.C. would start towards them, but Josh would catch her arm, and then grab Logan by the collar before starting to back away very slowly.

"We can't just let them do what they're gonna do!" O.C. insisted. "They'll never forgive us… or each other!"

"Too late," Joshua whuffed. "Too late." Then, as a demonstration, he took the sauce spoon from Logan's hand and chucked it at Alec's arm.

Alec didn't even pull away from Max's mouth. Just caught the kitchen utensil, and threw it right back. It hit Logan in the head. The knowledge would bring Alec great satisfaction in the days to come.

"Only react, now… Not safe." Joshua shook his head, sadly. He'd seen enough of Manticore to know what was comin' next. "Pretty whack." And he pulled the two protesting Ordinaries out of Logan's apartment.

There's something distinctly erotic about the sound of a computer crashing to the floor, Max thought, as Alec's free arm swept across the desk, clearing a space for her.

Her last coherent thought, followed immediately by blinding desire and want and need and _now, please_, and a burst of light behind her clenched eyelids, and _mother, may I have another_, was 'Well. Whaddya know. Hot Boy really _is_ that flexible."

The guilt and the shame would all be there when she regained her mind and looked at the trashed apartment around her. But the aching disappointment would be noticeably lacking…

Well… the aching would kind of be there… Hours and hours of mind-blowing, dehydrating, hells yeah, it was worth it, sex could do that to a girl.

But no disappointment.

Go figure.

And strangely enough, that noticeable lack would be enough to stop her from pushing him away when he reached for her without the benefit of the hormones.

* * *

_Frosting_

* * *

"I hate the snow," Alec grumbled. "Hate everything about it."

"Ditto." Max scowled, glaring out at the white blanketing the streets.

"You're kidding, right?" Sketchy was looking at them both in incredulity. They turned to look at him, and their twin frowns discouraged any follow up questions.

Unfortunately, years of herbal supplementation, i.e. smoking pot, had destroyed much of Sketchy's powers of observation. "Dude, how can you hate the snow? It's all about, y'know, child-like wonder, and days off, and-"

"Hot run." O.C. shoved her package into Sketch's hands. He looked down at the offending item, frowning. She fixed him with a knowing look. "You owe me." She reminded.

"But… It's snowing…"

"Do you _want_ me to tell everyone what happened last night?" Cindy asked, her arms folding across her chest.

Sketch's eyes widened. "You promised you'd never tell a soul."

"_If_ you did what I asked." She insisted. "Now, _bip_."

"What happened last night?" Max asked, as soon as Sketch was up the ramp and out the door.

"Sugah, you don't even wanna know." O.C. shook her head in disgust, moving away. Leaving Alec and Max to stare morosely at the entranceway, at the white powder that had frosted the grungy gray. They'd exchange a glance moments later.

"Escaped during the winter." Max offered.

"Hypothermia in '13." He shot back, adding helpfully, "Almost lost my toes."

"Last time I saw most of my family." She retaliated.

"Lost my best friend."

That made her pause. She turned to him, her eyes softening. He hated when she did that. Played the pity card. He didn't want her pity. Didn't need for her to act like she _understood_.

"How?"

"Hypothermia. _Duh_."

Max frowned at his blasé attitude. She ignored it, leaning next to her open locker door. "What was he like?"

"_She_… well, she was kinda like you." He paused, his eyes flicking over her gently before he waved a hand dismissively. "Y'know. Only nicer, smarter, and just generally better."

Max's eyes widened as she pushed herself out of her lean. "Excuse you?"

"Then again, I may be kinda biased… y'know… seeing as how she was my best friend and all."

Max scoffed, pulling her pack from the locker, slamming the door harder than strictly necessary. "Next you'll be telling me she was prettier than me, too."

Alec didn't say anything, his face bland and his eyes amused. It'd be a cold day in hell before he admitted that Max was by far the most gorgeous thing on earth.

Max frowned at the revelation, leaning again into the lockers, ignoring Alec's silence. His expression, like the snow outside, was merely frosting covering the existence of something grittier, darker, underneath. Maybe he really had lost somebody important to him… She'd always sort of assumed the Alec was a lone wolf, making his own way through life. That he'd ever… dunno… connected to someone… a female someone… a best friend female someone… She didn't know whether to feel shocked, sad, or jealous.

Jealous?

What the hell? Her eyes darted towards him. She and Alec were only barely civil on a good day. It's not like she had dibs on his 'best friend' spot or anything.

She finally settled for… "I'm sorry." Her hand reached out tentatively, realizing he could brush it away easily, but still hoping her fingers would be enough to dip past the candy-colored coating to touch the reality hidden within.

"Why? I just made all that shit up."

"You dick!"

Alec, being Manticore, had never had a good old-fashioned snowball upside the head. Which Max was more than happy to rectify.

* * *

_Girl_

* * *

G is a crossover with Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, and so cannot be posted on ff . net (wished I checked the restricted author's list before I wrote it and fell in love with it… :( )

You can find it on my livejournal, if you're interested. The homepage link is on my profile.

* * *

_Hero_

* * *

They say that all it takes to make a hero is to put an ordinary man into extraordinary situations. Well, Alec had been born an extraordinary man, and after he'd been freed from Manticore, he'd wasted away in ordinary situations. Guess that made him some kind of anti-hero, or something.

Now, Logan, there was a hero. A real caped crusader. Ticking away at the keyboard. Whipping off his glasses in dramatic type fashions. Glaring steely-eyed into a video camera. Yep… Amaaazing that no one had asked _him_ if they could reproduce him in a comic book.

"You're shitting me, right?"

"Five hundred thousand dollars, baby." Alec smirked into Sketchy's awestruck face.

"But… but why?"

Alec shrugged, his face twisting in that 'aw shucks, I'm just that good' expression that was all his own.

"Dude, wish I'd helped save the world," Sketchy's bummed voice was lost on Alec, because he was already scanning the crowd.

He caught sight of someone he hadn't shared his glee with yet, so he clapped Sketch consolingly on the shoulder. "Eh, maybe next time, buddy."

Alec moved on to his next target. "Cindy!"

"Yeah, yeah, already seen it." Cindy didn't even spare a glance at the shiny cover, held aloft before Alec. She stuffed another fry into her mouth.

"Seen it?" Alec lost a bit of steam, the comic book lowering only slightly.

"Max showed it to me."

More steam, right out the window. Comic book, no longer held aloft. "She did." He tried to hold on to the smile, but the light in his eyes was fading fast. "Did she… say anything about it?"

Cindy chewed her food, smugly.

Shit.

"Well, she shouldn't have made me the PR Guy." He hmphed, sinking on to the stool. "It's not my fault the media loves me." His voice descended into sulkiness, his body slumping, going along for the ride.

"Yeah. Genetically gifted, witty, good-looking, all around pain-in-the-ass." Cindy shrugged, reaching for another fry. "What's not to like?"

"Hey, I _deserve_ this," Alec protested. "I was in the infirmary for a month after the Coming."

"So was Logan," O.C. waved her food dismissively.

"_I _got shot up on the front line." He pointed out. "Logan got ambushed by White while he was cruising around in the Logey Mission Control Van of Utter Ridiculousness and Imminent Target-ness."

O.C. blinked. "Say that one more time."

"I can't, it's too difficult."

Cindy's eyes flicked over his morose face. Yeah, Alec maybe had been an anti-hero. Then the Coming had arrived and he'd been an extraordinary man in an extraordinary situation. Which is maybe why DC Comics was trying to turn him into a super-hero.

Cindy shrugged. "No one sayin' you ain't a hero, baby boo."

"I am too a hero." He groused.

"What? Original Cindy _just _said that you were-"

"I mean, and what's so great about Logan, anyway?" Alec pouted. "He never _does_ anything. Heroes are the guys on the front lines, fighting the battles, not the elites sitting comfortable up in their high rises, exposing corruption through a hack and yet doing nothing to end it, relying on others to take care of the business. I mean, he never gets _his_ hands dirty, does he-"

"Who said anything about Logan?" Cindy asked.

He sucked in air to continue his tirade.

"Alec, you're rambling."

Alec turned, his eyes widening a bit. "Max."

She waved the glossy, first edition comic book, a twin to the one in his lap, in front of his face. "Have you seen this, Pretty Boy?"

"Look, I'm sorry-" He began with a frown.

She paused, mid-wave, leaning back to blink in confusion. "What?"

"I'm sorry." He repeated with a sigh, "I'll split the 500 thou with you and-"

She started laughing. "Are you kidding? They gave me a million."

Alec's jaw dropped open.

"No, stupid." She slapped the comic book on to the table, opening it so she could point at a picture in consternation. "_Look_ at this!"

"Umm…"

"My boobs are not that big! Jesus, I look like I could topple over any minute!"

"Erm…"

She flipped a few pages. "And this! Heat had nothing to do with our hook-up, and it sure as hell didn't happen during the middle of the Coming!"

"Well-"

She sank on to his lap, her lips pressing together as she flipped through the rest of the comic. "I can't believe I sold myself for this trash."

His arms draped loosely around her waist, and he looked over her shoulder. "I can't believe you got more money than me."

She turned away from the comic, twisting in his lap so she could look at him. "Well, I did save the world."

"Savin' my pocket book, too." Cindy grinned. "'Cuz you know you buyin' for the rest of our lives, right?"

Alec frowned at Max, still caught in her eyes, oblivious to Cindy, the bar, hell, anything that wasn't _her_. "Yeah, but you couldn't have done it without me." He reminded her softly.

Her gaze gentled, remembering how he'd blurred in front of the bullets, how she'd almost lost him, how the world had been saved but _her_ world had almost ended. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips before turning back to Cindy to start her rant all over again.

Alec smiled into her hair. Guess maybe he really was the hero of this story. 'Cuz everyone knows that the hero always gets the girl.


	3. IJK

Ratings –

I- T

J- K

K- T

* * *

_Imposter_

* * *

He'd just sort of… shown up on her door one day. Bright, smiling, _normal_.

Zack had warned her months earlier that something was _off _about him. Zack hinted that he thought brother Ben was spiraling into madness. Then Zack called one day to say that Ben had dropped off the radar… that he'd probably lost his last grips on sanity.

Well, when he'd appeared in Seattle a few months ago, didn't seem like there was anything wrong with him to her. At least not at first.

She hadn't seen him since '09, since the escape. But her memories of the shy, gentle boy, her brother, had her holding him tight when he'd appeared on her doorstep; no job, no money, no nothing. Kendra had very obligingly moved in with Mr. Multiples and let Ben take over her room… Max had tried to get him into a career that would suit his creative capabilities, but he hadn't seemed much interested, preferring to slum it with her at Jam Pony. Said it was 'earthier.'

Since when had Ben ever cared about anything 'earthy?'

Zack had always been a bit overprotective and paranoid, so Max ignored him when he came for a visit and insisted that there _must_ be something wrong with Ben; that there was no _way_ he could be normal compared to the wreck he'd been just a few short months ago. And of course her brother would have walked in that moment, face freezing. Max had chewed Zack a new one after Ben'd escaped to his room. Zack hadn't been back to Seattle since. Ben hinted that he thought Zack had a thing for her. It was gross, but she was inclined to agree.

The only thing grosser than that, in Max's mind, was that she was beginning to think Ben had a thing for her too. And even more horrific, she thought that maybe she was starting to reciprocate.

Maybe Zack had a point. Maybe something within Ben had snapped, because there _was_ something off about him. Something different.

Something sexy.

Max groaned, sinking further in to the tub.

The euphoria of having him in Seattle had worn off after a while. As the days passed, he was less the shy, quiet, creative brooder and more of a sarcastic, all-knowing bastard. Personality transplant, anyone? And Max was disturbed to find that while she didn't like him better than the way he'd used to be, the way he'd been as a child, she did like him in all new, tingly sort of ways. Before, where he'd been her brother, now he was kind of her match…

In witticisms, in fights, in races on their bikes, in midnight cat burglaries…

She still remembered a few weeks ago, how she'd crept in to that high rise in Fogle towers, intent upon a _dee-_lish Bast statue. Too bad some old guy had been there with a gun. She'd just put her hands up, turning around to surrender the merch, when Ben'd appeared from behind, his elbow slamming into the back of the human's neck, sending him to the floor unconscious.

He'd smirked. Ben did that a lot, lately. Smirked. And he'd said. "You owe me,"

And she hadn't liked how that look and that low voice had sent shivers trembling down her spine.

The door sprang open and Max's quick hunch into the water, her arms crossing over her breasts, sent water slopping over the tub's rim. "Ben! What the hell are you doing?"

He squinted at her, taking another long sip from a bottle of beer.

"What the fuck, Ben, are you _drunk_?" She hissed. Years ago, she'd never have used that tone of voice on him. Seemed like she was using it all the time, now.

"No," Another swig. "But I'm tryin'."

She wanted to tell him to get the fuck out. She didn't like how his eyes kept dipping to the water, like he was trying to see through her arms. Didn't like how her body heated in response. But this was Ben, so rather than yell at him, she schooled her features into a calm expression. "I'm kind of taking a bath, can we talk about your problems later?"

The bottle was lowered slowly from his lips. "My problems?" He laughed, not at all a pleasant sound. "I'm _looking_ at my problems."

"Ben-"

He turned, flinging the bottle, and she flinched as it shattered with force against the wall, sending glass and beer flying through the air.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She shouted, sitting up. Then she wished that she hadn't because his eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and then he was stalking angrily towards her, sinking to his knees, lifting her slippery body half out of the water and kissing her with a devouring intensity that made her body go limp.

The past few months caught up with her quickly because she regained use of her hands, tugging at his brown blonde hair, scraping at the back of his neck, giving his passion back as good as he gave.

And that's when it hit her, as her blunt nails dug into the skin of his neck.

His overwhelming paranoia about his barcode. How, after that first day, he _always_ kept it lasered. His slow and yet complete personality overhaul. Zack's suspicions. The fiery, tingly, almost painful feelings that seeing him could illicit within her.

Her grasping efforts to pull him in became desperate attempts to push him away.

"Max-"

"Who the fuck are you?!"

He dropped her abruptly and she splashed back into the water, wincing as her tailbone slammed into the floor of the tub. His front was sodden, but as he stood, his face became such a meticulous mask of nothingness that you'd never have known that it was bothering him.

"You've run out of time, 452."

She shrank away from him in horror. A flicker of something crossed across his features. It looked like pain. But then his face was once more fixed in that terrible emptiness. Only one place gave out those kinds of souvenir masks, and it sure as hell wasn't the tourist trap in sector two.

"So you are Manticore." Her voice was flat. Almost dead. "Did they capture you and reprogram you?"

"I never left in the first place," He sneered, but his sneer was better than the Manticore mask, any day.

"Ben-"

"Stop calling me that!"

She shouldn't care that she'd hurt his feelings, but she did. She shoved the thoughts away. "Oh, so sorry," She hissed sarcastically. "Guess I should call you _493_, now, huh?"

"494, actually," He snarked

She covered her surprise. She covered her relief even better. "Clone, huh?" She snorted in dismissal. "Too bad they couldn't match the original product."

He laughed, a chilling noise, like he knew something she didn't. Guess he didn't want to share, because he finally shrugged, smirking lightly. "Didn't hear you complaining."

Despite the fact that she didn't know this man… That he represented everything she hated. That he worked for the enemy… Despite all those things she could have snarked at him for hours. Even now their banter gave her a charge- No. _No_. She had to nip this in the bud. Take him out and get the hell out of dodge.

But he had years of training on her…

Good thing she had one thing on her side.

Nakedness.

She stood up abruptly, water sluicing off her form, and his eyes widened, unable to stop themselves from crashing downwards.

In time to watch her foot slam into his chest. He stumbled back into the wall. She could have stayed and thrown some punches to make up for all the feelings of betrayal welling within her, but figured she should just make a run for something blunt and heavy to smash against his head. She scrambled out of the tub, wondering where'd she put that Bast statue.

He'd always been her match, though… Or had he just pretended… Fuck. Either way, he pushed himself off the wall without even taking time to draw a breath, kicking at the back of her knee, sending her to all fours mere steps from the door.

She glared at him balefully over her shoulder, kicking back. He caught her leg, but she dropped her weight and the slick floor worked to her advantage because he was unprepared and the tug caught him off balance. His feet came out from under him and he slipped, crashing backwards. She stifled a cry as his head cracked against the edge of the tub and he slid bonelessly to the floor.

She sat there, panting, shoving messy curls away from her eyes. Water puddled on the linoleum around her and she shivered but she couldn't drag her gaze from his unmoving form. She knew she should leave. Get on her bike and never look back. But his stillness was too much to bear, and she found herself crawling over to him.

Her hand glanced across the back of his head and came away bloody, but he was still breathing, if a bit deep and slow. She slumped over him in relief, and then immediately berated herself for doing so...

"I was supposed to find the others through you." His voice was groggy, pained, his hand coming up to press against clenched eyes.

"How did you find me?" Her own voice was monotone as she backed away from him. She considered slamming her fist into the side of his face, but figured he'd probably pass out from a likely concussion soon enough, anyway.

"You're less than 20 miles from Manticore's main base of operations. Did you really think you could hide in plain sight? It's the rest of the escapees that they're having trouble with." His hand fell away, hitting the floor with a wet slap, and she found herself locked into green gold eyes that she couldn't believe she'd ever mistaken for her brother's. He shook his head, breaking the heavy gaze as he struggled to sit up, fighting back the nausea.

She forced herself to not help him. And then, her eyes widened a bit as something suddenly became clear to her. He'd told her she was out of time, but she'd been here for ages. It was him who was the most recent arrival, him who had a handler and a time keeper waiting within the woods. "Who's really out of time?" She asked, falling back onto her knees. "Me or you?"

"Both of us." He pressed a hand to the back of his head, frowning as it came away bloody. Her own bloody hand crept behind her back, fisting in shame. His hand dropped and he looked at her, ignoring the wound. "Manticore wants results, Maxie."

"Don't call me that," She hissed. "You no longer have any right to call me that."

He slumped against the tub, tired, frail, and so wrong for her. "I know."

And that's when she knew.

He had no intention of turning her in.

She stared at him for a long moment, before sitting next to him, crossing her arms across her chest, drawing her legs up to hide her nakedness. "So, now what?"

He glanced at her, a flick of the eyes because moving his head was too difficult. His tongue felt thick, his body heavy. "Disable you for retrieval," He sighed. A thrill of fear coursed down her spine, but when he made no move towards her, she surmised that must have been the orders he'd been given. He chuckled, like he'd known that it would give her pause. "Manticore... crash through the windows within the hour." Again, his eyes fell shut.

"And what will they find?" Her voice was hard, urging him to remain awake. He blinked, looking again at her, wondering why his hands were hanging so uselessly at his sides.

"They'll find me…" That soft laugh that was not a laugh pained her more than it should have. "Probably unconscious," He shook his head again, trying to clear the dizziness, but only succeeding in intensifying the room's spin. "More n' likely by the bathtub."

And they'd take him back to Manticore. To Psy Ops or worse. And she'd never see this stranger-who-wasn't again.

"Come with me."

Okay, who the hell just said that? They were the only two people here, so guess it really was her, after all. She told herself that it wasn't anything personal, it's just that no one deserved to be locked up in Manticore. Not even him.

He smiled wanly. His speech was getting softer. Slurring a bit more with each sentence. "Concussion. Slow you down."

"I don't care." She said stubbornly.

"Don't… know me." His eyes were fluttering shut.

"Yes, I do." That made his eyes snap back open, and he looked at her a bit warily. She frowned at him. "You're an asshole, and a liar. You think you know everything and you _don't_. You're rude, obnoxious, and quite possibly the most annoying person on the planet."

Despite the weakness, he was able to manage a "Gee, thanks."

Her gaze softened. "But there's one thing you're not. You're not _theirs_." She stressed. And then, even though it hurt her to admit it, she glared at her knees and spat it out. "And I'd never forgive myself if I let them take you… So come with me." She repeated, insistent, glancing up at him.

He stared at her for a long moment, weighing his options. A life on the run, always looking over his shoulder. But she'd be there... Hell, it was all so sudden and it was so hard to think... He stalled, trying to buy himself some time. "Hey, Max?" He asked gently, finally looking away, letting his eyes fall shut once more.

She glanced at him. "What?" It was weird not having a name to call him. Let's see… Liar doesn't really work on a day-to-day basis. Imposter, even less so. Ass probably wouldn't be socially acceptable. Hmm. Dick. Yeah, he was a Dick.

"Did you know... that you're still naked?"

No.

Alec.

He was definitely an Alec.

* * *

_Jealous_

* * *

They'd fought, and it'd been explosive. One of their worst falling outs to date.

Which is maybe why he'd gone out that night, looking for a little bit of trouble and a whole lot of fun.

That he'd ended up a genuine good guy, and not any of the myriad of names she'd called him earlier, the names he'd been angry enough to consider living up to… well, that was just fortunate happenstance that he got to rub in her face.

"And then," the girl gushed, "he told him, if I ever see you here again, I'll _kill_ you."

Max blinked. "Wow, Alec… that was very… hero-like of you."

"And so manly." Cindy's lips twisted in mocking amusement.

Alec sniffed in annoyance. The girl, who could have been injured, or worse, by the mugger certainly thought so. She nodded in emphatic agreement.

"What did you say your name was again?" Max tried to smile. After all, the girl had just been through a harrowing experience. Gotta play nice, and all.

"Chrissy."

Ugh. Even her _name_ was girly. From her little pink stilettos, to her thick, wavy hair, to the way she'd been fawning over Alec the entire night, she screamed 'anti-Max.'

Max turned back to the conversation in time to wish she hadn't turned back. "You'll let me take you to dinner, right?" Chrissy (_Pissy_, Max rhymed in her head. _Sissy, Kissy_, no that one sucks) was blinking big brown doe eyes at Alec, smiling big.

"Welll…" He'd tapered off, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Oh, _please_? It'll mean so much to me."

Max almost barfed. Right then and there. Vomit, almost all over the table.

He glanced at her, his eyes gleaming, before he turned back to Pi- Chrissy. "Well, Max here is always saying I'm not kind enough to the victims of the world…"

The girl must not have caught the subtle dig, because she giggled, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. Maybe she was just blinded by Alec's generous flash of teeth. Max was starting to admit that maybe he did have that kind of effect on women. And then Chrissy leaned forward, better displaying her own generous… assets.

Okay, that's it. Time to take matters into her own hands.

"He's no hero, you know."

Way too many heads turned to look at her.

"What?" She groused. "He's not."

"Yeah," Alec snarked. "Because saving a damsel in distress is so diabolical."

Sketchy blinked. "Dude. That… was a lot of d's." He shook his head. "I think…" He teetered a bit to the right, his eyes nearly crossing. "…I need another beer."

O.C. propped the boy back up in his seat. "Fool, that's the last thing you need."

Max was ignoring them. She was too busy staring at the two people across from her. Chrissy's perfect little manicured hand was pressing against Alec's shoulder. Her perfect little white teeth were flashing in a syrupy smile. Her perfect little voice was gleefully taking an ice pick to Max's spinal column. Max ground her teeth in frustration.

"So," The girl asked, batting her ridiculously long eyelashes that were probably fake anyway and that Max would have no problem ripping off right before she poked the girl's eyes out with a fork. "How about that dinner?"

Time for drastic measures.

Alec was opening his mouth, to accept no doubt, like the bastard that he was, when he suddenly found himself hauled roughly around and felt a pair of lips smash against his own.

Cindy's mouth dropped open.

"You're right," Sketch rubbed at bleary eyes. "I _am_ drunk. 'Cuz I could swear Max is kissing Alec right now."

Max broke away, ignoring Alec's vacant, dreamy expression to smirk superiorly into Pissy's face. Yeah. That's right. She said Pissy.

"He's busy."

After the girl had flounced away, Max retook her seat, calmly taking another sip from her beer.

"What the hell was that?" Cindy demanded. Alec was only just then shaking himself from Max-lips stupor.

"It's like I told him earlier. We can't afford to be gettin' mixed up with people who don't know what we are," Max shrugged. "Just savin' myself the hassle of pulling him out of trouble, later."

Alec's eyes gleamed and he opened his mouth-

"Can it."

His mouth snapped close and he shrugged. "Fine." He reached for the pitcher. "My turn to buy anyway."

After he'd walked away, Max turned back to catch Cindy's look of disgust.

"What? Why you lookin' at me like that?"

Cindy didn't say anything. Just shook her head.

"Where's the beer?"

"Shut up, Sketchy. Alec should be back in a minute." Max twisted in her seat, looking towards the bar.

Oh, hell no.

"I'll be right back." She shot off her stool, headed towards the front.

Yeah, that's right. You better run, blondie.

* * *

_Kiss_

* * *

The first time they'd kissed, it'd been an accident.

Crawling through duct work, knees and wrists protesting, dust coating the inside of their noses, mouths, lungs… even a saint would have been hard pressed to remain cheerful in that situation. And Alec was no saint. He finally decided he couldn't take much more of watching Max's ass swish in front of him.

"Can you hurry it up?" He growled.

"Be quiet," Her voice echoed from ahead.

But Alec was done with all that, so he attempted to shove past her. A minor scrabble had broken out, knees and elbows pushing and shoving. She'd finally gotten him in a headlock when they heard an ominous creak from above.

They didn't even have time to get out a good "Shit," before the duct released its grip on the building, sending them crashing through the ceiling and in to the room below. When the dust cleared, Max was on top of him, her lips smashed against his. Their eyes had widened to comic proportions and she'd ripped away from him.

He'd coughed, hacking out dust, and they'd picked themselves out of the rubble. Neither mentioned the accidental kiss. How could they, because the guards had busted in after that and it was mostly forgotten as they tried to fight their way out of the building. Alec got blamed for the entire incident. He got her back by gleefully telling Logan that she couldn't keep her lips off him during the mission. It'd taken days for her to assure the older man that it wasn't as insidious as Alec had made it to be.

The second time they kissed, it hadn't been an accident, but it wasn't exactly a choice, either.

They heard the short, blaring 'woop' of the siren before they saw the patrol car. They'd exchange a disgruntled glance and Max would drop the bag of stolen supplies to the ground, reaching for him even as he made for her.

The search light of the squad car picked up two young figures wrapped around each other in an alleyway, but didn't find the professionals that'd hit up the hospital. As soon as the beam had moved on, they pulled away, very carefully not looking at each other. Max tried to vilify the memory of soft lips by mentioning it to O.C. in disgust and it was just bad luck and even worse timing that Logan happened to be walking up right then. It'd taken her a little bit longer to convince him that it didn't mean anything.

The third, fourth, and fifth times were all remarkably similar to the second. Except involving angry mobsters and some artwork, pissed off steel-heads and some money, and a bunch of trannie-hating hicks and… well… themselves. Each time, it took them a fraction of a second less to reach for each other and a fraction of second more to pull away, until finally, the time with the hicks, it'd lasted a mite too long after the mob had moved on. He'd pulled away, heavy, drugged, and she didn't know if she'd ever forgive herself for not pulling away first.

Alec admitted it to Logan in a soft voice and Max didn't know if she'd ever forgive him, either.

Logan had demanded she take someone else on their missions from then on, and she'd nodded, curtly and miserably and shamed. Alec had already been long gone by that point, having spun around and swept out as soon as she'd started protesting that it was 'nothing.'

She didn't see him for two weeks.

Then Sketchy, ever Alec's friend, came to her for help.

She found him desperately trying to get drunk in a smoky, off-the-wall bar that smelled vaguely of chewing tobacco and throw up. She'd never been into it before and she hoped she'd never have to go in again. The only good thing about the visit was that she managed to get there before he could try and start something with any of the local yokels.

"Those are some interesting bruises you got," She said in fake cheer as she plopped onto a rickety stool next to his hunched figure. "Been in any fights, lately?"

His eyes flicked towards her and away. She waited for him to respond. She was surprised when he threw some bills on the counter and pushed away from the bar, leaving without a word.

What choice did she have but to follow him?

Her hand would snag the worn leather of his sleeve in the dimly lit parking lot. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." He responded. A light crackled and dimmed overhead before returning to its half-hearted gleam.

She'd scoffed. "You can't expect me to believe that 'nothing' is bothering you. Sketchy says you're out drinking almost every night. Starting shit. Getting your ass handed to you." Her voice was thick in frustration as her eyes begged him. "Just _tell_ me. _What's going on_?"

The sixth kiss caught her by surprise. One minute he was staring at her, expressionless, and the next his lips were crashing over hers like a tide. She fought its weight but couldn't stop herself from slipping under, from drowning. Her hands fisted in the leather at his back and dear god, if he'd demanded it of her she would have given herself to him right there in that parking lot.

But he pulled away, his forehead resting against hers as they took shuddering breaths. His hands, still buried in her hair, held her as he pressed a hard kiss to her forehead before it all became too much and he shoved her bodily away.

His absence made the night air seem colder as he sank onto his motorcycle, smiling blankly at her. "Like I said," The roar as the motor caught on. "Nothing."

And it wasn't until the red taillight of the Bandit disappeared into darkness that Max remembered that that was what she'd told Logan Alec's kiss was. Nothing.

She'd crash in to his apartment mere minutes after him. He sat up from the couch, whisky in hand. She knocked the glass away, sinking onto his lap.

"Seven's a lucky number," She said before he could protest. If the sixth kiss was a tide that drowned, than the seventh was an ember that sparked and set them both aflame.

But all of those kisses, and any that'd come after them, paled in comparison to this one. She'd long ago lost count, but it didn't matter, because this kiss was far and away the best.

The priest cleared his throat in embarrassment, the crowd hooted and hollered, but Alec just smiled against her mouth, and kept her dipped low, his lips moving over hers.

"Save some for the wedding night!" A raucous laugh from the back. Max grinned, but didn't push Alec away.

After all, Alec's kiss was everything.


	4. LM

Holy poo. I don't know where Last came from, but… umm… Okay, fine, yes I do. Seamagik is no longer allowed to think about Terminator III while writing fics. ...runs away in shame... Blame my muse! I just look at the prompt and roll with the first thing that comes to mind! P.S. I reeeally want to expand on a lot of these... most notably, Imposter… Nobody let me do it! I need to be working on Castaway!

Ratings

L - T/M-

M - T

* * *

_Last_

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me."

"No, no," Luke was shaking his head. "Spells it all out right there… 'Vessel of light', clear as day." He pointed at the runes over her breast, hidden underneath her turtleneck, but she popped his hand. He rubbed his fingers, frowning.

"Clear, my ass!" She shouted. "How do you equate that with having Alec's bastard?!"

Logan looked down at his hands.

"We've been over this," A weary, older voice, from the shadows. "The runes had a trigger, Max."

"I'm sorry, did I give you permission to talk?" Max glared at the shadows that clung to his face.

Sandeman leaned forward out of the shadows, chuckling low. Even in light, the darkness seemed to cling to his strong features. But he ignored her command, as though he were ignoring an impertinent child. Max bristled. He ignored that too. "The time frame, the alignment of the stars, the gathering of the cult… All played part in the appearance in the runes. The final piece was merely the man."

Logan pushed out of his chair, stalking away from them. He leaned over the desk, his back to them all. Max kinda knew how he felt, but she was too busy arguing to attempt to comfort him.

"Ignoring the ridiculous 'Alec needs to be my baby daddy' for the moment," Max hissed. "There's a simpler solution to this all. Take out White, easy peasy. End of story."

She whirled, stalking away from him.

His low laugh made her pause by the door. "This is bigger than my son, 452." Her eyes flicked back to his careworn face. "Bigger than you or even me. We're talking about the apocalypse, a war that will rage for _decades_. You and I will be long gone when this all finally draws to a close. It is your _destiny_ to have a son and _he_-"

Max snorted. "Sorry, gramps. I was never much for destiny, anyway." She didn't slam the door behind her, because Logan was on her heels.

He caught her leather-clad hand in a latex grasp. "It won't come to that," He promised in a low voice.

"They're wrong," Her jaw was set as she looked Logan in the eye. She squeezed his fingers reassuringly as she forced herself to relax. "They're wrong."

Cindy was one of the first to die.

It swept through the populace like a plague… a plague with no symptoms, a silent killer. People would just sort of… stop... Mother Nature had cultivated natural immunity in many a human but the beyond-decimating statistics, three in ten, created a body count that numbered in the millions and the U.S. government, _all_ governments, were hard pressed to keep up with the mounting death toll.

After a while, you learned to stop checking to see if that man who didn't get up for the bus...

If that waitress was just resting between shifts or-

It took weeks for the CDC to discover that it was no new bacterial strain, no insidious viral agent, but a previously unknown type of snake venom that strangely enough seemed to _infect_ people as though it were a pathological disease… It almost seemed… airborne... alive. Scientists were stumped, so people turned to religion. Religion was not enough. Not once the Familiars started coming out of the woodworks and began their campaign against the remaining 7/10ths of the population.

The memory of Max's wracking sobs at Cindy's unseeing eyes, of his own choked cries over Joshua's broken body, would be all it took for Alec to ignore Logan's order and put a gun point blank between White's eyes and pull the trigger.

But the Cult kept on comin'. People kept on dying. And there seemed to be no end in sight. And something within Max broke as her friends started falling away, either at the hands of the toxin, or at the hands of the Familiars.

"You stupid girl!" Sandeman would shout at her one day, in an attempt to draw her from her funk. "Did you think it would be easy?! This is the _end_!"

The end. The last days.

But there was one last hope for humanity.

"_No_, Max."

"I see my future so clearly, now." Her voice was low. Haunting in its emptiness. "Me, fighting them all, alone. Dying, all alone. A future of grey skies and empty cities and all that's left is _them_."

"Max-"

"This is bigger than you and me." And Max turned her back on Logan. Logan didn't wait around for her. He couldn't, not while knowing what would be going on behind the door separating the dingy, ill-lit hallway from Alec's cramped living quarters.

There wasn't much in Alec's place. A sink and a small fridge. An old EZ-chair that'd seen better days. And of course, there was a bed; thin, threadbare, springy. A soft sound of broken amusement escaped her nostrils. What else did they need?

Alec was waiting for her, slumped on the floor next to the door. He was sitting so still, staring so hard at his clenched hands, for a moment Max's heart stopped and she remembered wide, unseeing eyes. But then he took a shuddering breath and glanced at her, nodding shakily.

The only things she removed were her shoes and her pants.

He didn't even go that far.

But it didn't matter, because he couldn't perform, anyway.

After five minutes of willing something to happen didn't cut it, he pushed himself away from her thighs. He sat on the far edge of the bed, unable to look at her, the muscles of his hunched, tensed back visible beneath the thin black tee.

"Alec-"

He stood abruptly, escaping the soft press of her fingers against his shoulders. He zipped his pants and took quick strides to the sink, turning on the faucet to splash his face with water.

She laughed, collapsing back onto his bed. He turned to look at her, the sheen of water still upon his skin.

She threw her arm over her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. "I fought Sandeman so hard. He _knew_ that you were the one. And now that I've finally given in-" She shook her head again. He looked away. She sat up.

"Is it me?" She asked softly.

"Yes," He answered honestly.

She frowned, looking down. Even a kick-ass transgenic female is a female at the end of the day and she found herself asking, "Is it because I'm not pretty enough?"

"You know that's not it." His voice was every bit as painfully frustrated as his expression.

She knew. She'd known since the first days out of Manticore, when he'd been unable to leave her. She'd known when he didn't expose her lie to Logan, and by the look on his face when she told him that Logan knew the truth. She'd known when the Transgenics scattered to the four corners of the globe, both hunting the Familiars and hiding from them, but he remained by her side. She'd known by the look of betrayal on his face when she'd told him this was something she _had_ to do for the sake of mankind. She'd always known.

"Can we just... forget this ever happened?" She asked.

Something that looked a bit like the old Alec, the Alec who'd lived before they'd lost Cindy, Joshua, Dalton, and so many others… That something peered from behind the stranger's eyes for a moment and gleamed at her. "I'd prefer it that way, actually."

"Alert the media," Max snorted. "Alec McDowall isn't a sex god, after all."

"Hey now," He protested. "That's taking it a bit far."

She chuckled softly and the noise was too loud in the small space.

"Guess you should go tell Logan the good news," Alec said, crouching by the mini-fridge to pull out a beer.

"Gimme one,"

He tossed it to her, pulling out another for himself. The hiss as the top was cracked open was also loud in the room, but it was a noise that was filled with promises of numb relief so he could deal.

He sat next to her on the bed and pretended that he wasn't aware she still wasn't wearing any pants. "Cheers," without cheer and the tips clinked together.

He drank deeply from his bottle, a man on a mission. She took small sips from her own.

If he was wondering why she was still there, he'd soon get his answer.

"Did he beg?"

There was something hard underneath her soft voice and it made Alec glance at her. He considered lying, giving her the answer that she wanted. He could still see White's derisive, amused face staring up at him as if it'd only happened yesterday and not over a year ago. Had they really never talked about this before? Guess not. Back then, Max had sided with Logan more often than not, and Alec'd been relieved of duty for months after he'd disobeyed orders and ended the bastard. Which was okay, 'cuz he'd spent most of the time in the infirmary having his lungs put back together anyway. Which, in retrospect of the fear warring with relief on her face, might have had more to do with his being relieved of command than the Familiar's brains, sprayed across the floor.

"He told me I didn't have the balls," Alec laughed, low and soft.

"He would, wouldn't he?" She shook her head.

"Fucker," Alec replied, in way of agreement.

When he crawled into bed an hour later, she was still there. Just friends, she'd said. Just one night. Just hold me. And he did, because they were just friends, and it was only one night, and he just wanted to hold her. She hadn't sighed when his heavy arm fell over her too-thin frame, but she did hunch her shoulders, curl her body into a ball, a way in which she could both burrow back into him and escape him all at once.

She never slept, though. Maybe, once upon a time, she'd gotten a few hours here and there. But not anymore. And Alec made himself stay awake, 'cuz it seemed too surreal to fall asleep with her in his arms. So he talked to her hair and she spoke into his hand. They talked about nothing and they talked about everything until she was lying on her back and his arm was over her stomach and it was almost a real conversation. They shared every good memory of the world they'd once loved and some of the bad ones too and even the misdeeds of the friends they'd lost were precious in those hushed twilight hours.

And when she started crying, he kissed away the tears.

And when she moved her mouth to meet his, he pretended like she was asking him for more than comfort, like he couldn't taste the salt on her desperate lips. When she pulled the shirt from his body, pressing her mouth to the mass of scar tissue White had left inches from his heart, he pretended like she cared about it for more than cosmetic reasons. When he sank into her and she shut her eyes, gasping, he pretended that she wasn't thinking of somebody else. Then she opened her eyes and said 'Alec' in that soft, begging tone, and Alec stopped pretending that he knew everything and just gave in to her body.

It was slow, tender, not all what she'd been expecting when she'd pulled her pants from her body hours earlier. Which is maybe why-

"Where are you going?"

She stuffed another shirt into her bag. "Living together, with the virus and all, was a bad idea to begin with."

Logan's face went blank. "You're moving in with him, aren't you?"

She didn't dignify that with a response, just pulled the zipper of the backpack and moved on to her duffel.

"Well, one night sure changed your tune," Logan's laugh was bitter. "Guess he's everything everyone is always saying he is."

"Just… don't, Logan."

"It won't last, you know," His voice hounded her through the apartment. "He'll leave eventually, and when he does-"

"He hasn't left yet," Max's voice was soft but firm. She turned to look at him and he was shocked to see she wasn't nearly as broken as she'd been one short day ago. Like something that'd happened the night before had released some of her demons.

"I'd say congrats, but-"

But she couldn't take anymore so she spun on her heel and left his large, bright apartment, so removed from reality, and went back to the hard, gray, painful real world.

She'd knock on Alec's door, hours later.

He opened the door, bleary eyed, hair mussed, obviously just now waking up. His eyes flicked over her in something akin to pain and betrayal before falling back into neutrality.

"Hey neighbor," She pushed past him. "I think I saw eggs in your fridge last night and I was hoping-" She turned back to face him and fell silent as his recriminating gaze. "What?"

"What time'd you leave this morning?" He so obviously didn't care it was obvious that he did care.

"Pretty early," She shrugged, pulling open his fridge. He was unable to shake away his defensive stance as he watched her peruse his meager rations.

"Shouldn't you be back at your apartment, crying on your couch?" His voice was hard, bitter, and confused. "Logan is probably waiting, gloves in hand, to comfort you."

"I don't have a couch yet," She shrugged again. "And these dorm style rooms are so small, I'm not even sure if I'll be able to get a couch in there." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, before studiously examining the fridge's contents. "Maybe we should go halfsies on a bigger place,"

He blinked at her.

And when their child was born a year and a half later in that strange, gray, apocalyptic world, Max couldn't help but laugh.

Sandeman must be rolling in his grave.

The last hope for the human race was a girl.

* * *

_Mind_

* * *

Transgenics are very particular about their likes and dislikes.

Mia liked Dougie… because she couldn't control Dougie. Her psy op's tricks didn't work on his narcoleptic brain. People she could control she viewed with a hint of disdain. It was like someone had given her the cheat codes to life and she could skip right through all the difficult parts. Dougie was the only thing real in her life. The only thing she had to work at.

Which maybe is why Mia had rooted for Logan. Logan was older, like Dougie. And the situation between Max and Logan was so ridiculously difficult, it's just the kind of situation she would go for. Max and Alec, on the other hand, were easy. Anyone could see how those two would fall in together. They had the snark, and the wit, and the chemistry, and hey, no virus. Hence, too easy, in Mia's book.

But just because Mia knew how to manipulate people, didn't make her the final authority on destiny or relationships or anything like that.

Plus, Whorl had never liked that bitch to begin with. She was too loose with the powers that he viewed as more curse than blessing. So he laughed in Max's face when she mentioned that Mia's encouragement was one of the reasons she knew that she and Logan were supposed to be together.

"Grow up,"

And the empath that was supposed to be moonlighting as T.C.'s psychologist had almost gotten kicked out of command for the comment, but whatever, it's not like he got paid to listen to people's troubles all day.

Whorl didn't believe in destiny. Any kind of destiny. There was only one certainty in life and that was its end. Everything between birth and death was filler. Max had stared at him in shocked disgruntlement, and then mentioned her runes to him, and isn't that a form of destiny? Not in Whorl's book. That was an old man and a team of scientists with too much time on their hands. Just because they had a helpful guidebook to the end didn't mean it was predetermined.

"You're the worst counselor ever," Max had huffed, leaving. No, he was just the most honest. After he'd lost his girlfriend, the sunny X-5 he'd kept putting off proposing to, to a sweep team of Familiars, he'd realized life was too short to just pander around. Much of his advice was bent to make transgenics, notoriously emotionally stunted, realize that fact and start living life instead of stumbling through it.

And life was _way_ too short to wait for another one of Max and Alec's arguments to blow over. Mole and Gem exchanged a look and settled in for a long wait. Guess it was gonna be one of _those_ Command meetings.

Whorl ran hands through messy brown hair and told himself he could wait.

After five minutes of his life had been wasted, he'd decided he'd had about enough.

"Alec, is there something you'd like to say to Max?"

Alec turned away from Whorl's soft, sea-foam eyes to stare at Max, his gaze narrowing. Everyone leaned forward in interest.

"You're just _aching_ for it, aren't you?"

Mole snorted and a hand was clapped to Whorl's head in annoyance.

"Max?" He prompted, hoping for better.

"Please, Alec, you're not man enough."

Damn, this was gonna be harder than he thought.

Okay, ratchet up the whammy to the next level and try again. "Max, is there anything else you'd like to say?"

Max frowned at Alec.

"The only one _aching_ for anything is _you, _puppy dog. Following me around everywhere, desperate for a handout." She sneered. "Or maybe I should say a _put out_."

Oh, help me, Jesus.

"Me?" Alec retaliated in incredulity. "You're the one holding the leash, baby! _Oh, can't let Alec too far out of my sight, he might flirt with someone and destroy my self esteem," _He mimicked bitingly.

If Max hadn't been under Whorl's suggestions, she might have insisted that she only kept him around 'cuz he was a screw up and she needed to keep an eye on him to pull him out of trouble.

"Yeah right, I only keep an eye on you 'cuz you're a screw up and if I keep you around I won't have to go find you before I have to pull you out of trouble."

Everyone slumped, ready to admit defeat. Not Whorl, 'cuz he'd finally hit on something that looked promising.

"Why do you always pull him out of trouble, Max?"

"Because he attracts it!"

"Yeah sure, but why? Why not just let him pull himself out?"

"Cuz then something might happen to him," Max rolled her eyes. "Duh."

"Aaand that would be bad because?" Whorl resisted the urge to ground the teeth that it felt like he was pulling.

"He's my best friend." She shrugged, informing him in that brain-no filter-mouth, verbal-diarrhea like way that psychic suggestion could bring about. "Well, y'know, my best guy friend. I don't know what I'd do without him. And I need someone to joke with after putting up with Logan's mooning for hours at a time."

Every head in the room swiveled back to Alec as Whorl prompted him.

"Ditto," Alec shrugged back. "On the best friend part. Not the mooning part, 'cuz Logan's not pretty enough for me,"

Okay, don't wanna know where _that_ came from. Whorl tried again.

"Come _on_," He shouted after five minutes of leading them had driven up nothing but half steps with each admission. Plus, he was hungry. Where the hell had everyone else gotten snacks from? Let's just get this over with and put mind mojo on full. He put every bit of his will in to his last command. "Will you two just be honest with each other for _once_?"

Their fragile egos couldn't take much more bombardment, though, and their psyches went for the easy way out.

They met in a fiery clash of lip and teeth and hands and grasping and gasps.

"C'mon, I have to look at that table tomorrow!" Mole shouted at them as Whorl was ushering everyone out of the meeting room.

Still, Mole pulled out a cigar, and chomped on it before turning to grin at Whorl.

"Are you sure you don't accept money?" Mole asked. "Tips, anything like that?"

"Are you kidding?" Whorl shook his head, walking away. Helping people as screwed up as Max and Alec come to _any_ kind of realization was payment enough.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Logan was jogging up. Mole made to intercept him, but Whorl shook his head. Maybe this would save everyone some trouble. Mole shrugged, letting Logan pass.

The guy was so engrossed in the files in his hand, he didn't even hear the throaty cries until it was too late and the door was already half-way open.

And once the door was half-way open, there was no resisting pushing it the rest of the way in numb horror.

Whorl only got a glimpse of flesh around Logan's shoulder before he pulled the stunned man away. Damn. Alec certainly hadn't wasted any time on her pants.

"You… you… Jedi mind tricked me!" Max would hiss at him, later.

"You did that all on your own, all I did was tell you to be honest for once."

"That wasn't honest!" Max shouted. "That was pornographic!"

"Well, you _were_ aching for it," Whorl shrugged.

This time he really did get thrown out of command.


	5. NO

A/N: Ahhh, heat. The greatest smut... erm... I mean PLOT device of all time. (cough) I know, I know, I already did a heat ficlet, buuut… umm… Look over there, at that shiny thing! (Seamagik runs away, leaving only an eerie cackle behind) If it makes you feel better, P is shaping up to be fluffy as a bunny after a tumble in the dryer... Umm... ignore that. (seamagik does not condone animal cruelty except in the case of the Roadrunner, because that little bastard had it coming)

Ratings-

N- M

O- T

* * *

_Name_

* * *

"Jam Pony messenger. Delivery for…" Her eyes scanned the paperwork quickly. "Simon Lehane."

The maid nodded briskly at her, allowing her into the entranceway. Max sighed, fidgeting impatiently, ignoring the woman's critical eye on her urban, rumpled clothing. Like her day wasn't bad enough to begin with, now she had to deal with minimum-wage lackeys with superiority complexes? Thank god this was her last stop of the day. She just wanted it all over with. Go home, have a nice, long cold shower and then, a whole lotta push ups, a quick change, and headed out for a night at Crash with Kendra and O.C… Providing, of course, that Cale didn't interrupt her groove for the latest in their game of tit-for-tat; another mission for another tidbit on her family.

Although, she was beginning to think she was getting the raw end of the deal…

Then she smiled dreamily, thinking, again, of Crash.

Wonder if Eric will be there...

The music pulled her from her reverie and she shook the need away. Quick, lilting, playful notes. She peered around the corner, watched the maid disappear through double doors at the end of the long hallway. The music ended abruptly. And then began again, but obviously under the fingers of someone not quite as talented. Guess Lehane was a piano teacher, and this was his primary contract. The instructions for delivery had been pretty clear; if the guy wasn't home, get it to the secondary, business address A.S.A.P.

Heh. Why would a piano teacher be receiving correspondence from one of the arms dealing scumbags out of Korea Town?

She heard his steps, next. Brisk, efficient. Manly. Max shuddered, pulling away from the corner, back into the entranceway. Didn't want to look like a rubber-necker in somebody else's home or nothin'.

She heard his voice, young, but firm, as he stepped out into the hallway. "Good, Rachel. I'll be right back."

Oh god. What if he was talented and young _and_ good-looking?

With long fingers?

The contract crumbled in her hand and she wanted to run, run, run, now. She couldn't take it. Couldn't bear to see what face would come around the corner. Oh lord, what if she drooled on a customer? It would be the perfect end to a perfect frickin' day.

She dropped the manila envelope on a side table and booked it out of there.

She was back at the Berrisford residence less than an hour later. 'Cuz Normal was a prig who wouldn't accept that she didn't want to get the signature. But getting a signature was better than staring at Normal's arms while he bitched at her. Even with the heat and the gnawing emptiness, the thoughts his arms had inspired had made her want to hork.

And of course, her day was so ridiculously fantastic, she got there just in time to be told that Mr. Lehane had just left. She growled and got back on her bike to head _all the way_ back across town to the guy's home address. Grey clouds gathered overhead and she frowned. If she got rained on because of this jerk-

Again, the man was not at home. Dammit.

But rather then calling it quits, Normal be damned, Max's curiosity got the better of her. A piano teacher with arms dealer dealings… Huh.

It was ridiculously easy to jimmy the lock and slip inside.

The place was positively sterile. Not even a hint of personality. Ugh. Guy was bland as white bread. Maybe he didn't know that the man sending him a letter was on one of Eyes Only's 'expose soon' lists.

It was a little bit harder to slip back out, because Simon Lehane was standing in the doorway, one hand slung casually in the pocket of dark slacks, the other holding the large envelope she'd left on the table at the Berrisford place.

His face was amused and bland all at once. "Can I help you?"

She couldn't believe she was able to talk around her heart in her throat. He was every bit as good-looking as she'd been afraid of earlier. And those glasses… "Jam Pony messenger," She stuffed the slip into his hands, forcing the goofy grin off of her face. "Left a package for you earlier. Just need a signature."

His face twisted. Her insides did too. "You needed it bad enough to break in to my apartment?"

"Door was open," She lied, looking away.

He was watching her, narrow-eyed, interested, but he finally shrugged, taking the slip from her. "Yeah, sure." He didn't believe her, she could tell, but he wasn't gonna start anything, either. He leaned over a side table, dropping the package, and she watched the movements of muscle under his button-down shirt as he signed his name. He turned back to her, catching her in her heavy stare and her face heated. She snatched the signed receipt from his grasp, spinning on her heel and walking as fast as she could out of that apartment without giving the air of running.

Max was halfway down the hallway when he leaned out the doorway. "Hey, hold on a second." She did, turning back slowly to smile a mite too friendly like at him.

His eyes were narrowed, his smirk wicked. "Don't you want your tip?"

She shook her head, clearing her head. "I'm good," But he had already stepped out of the entrance, moving towards her, a bill in hand. And she found herself strangely unable to move as he stalked towards her. He smiled, holding a twenty out towards her, smirked as he pulled it away from her grasp, smiled again at her confused, annoyed frown and pressed it into her hand, leaning forward to growl into her ear.

"_Good little girls don't break into people's homes."_

Hot breath washed across her neck as he glanced down at her collarbone, at the small amount of electrified space separating their bodies. She could almost feel his clenched teeth.

If it had been physically possible to melt into a puddle of needy goo, Max would have done so. But he pulled away, grinned at her, all teeth, before spinning around and walking back into his apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. She stared down the hallway for a long moment before making herself leave, muttering darkly to herself about uptight, white-bread piano teachers with too much time on their hands.

494 leaned on the opposite side of the door, shaking his head. What the fuck was that about? He didn't have time to be flirting with some girl. Even if said girl was gorgeous. The corner of his mouth lifted, his eyes falling gently shut. Large brown eyes, a hint of blush beneath caramel skin, full, kissable mouth, dark, curly hair, perfect for grasping… Oddly reminiscent of Lola, if a bit shorter… He let his head fall back and crack against the door with enough force to clear the heady desire.

That's better. His eyes reopened, refocused, sharp and clear, and he turned to glare at the package on the side table.

Now, how'd that prick get Berrisford's address? People back at Manticore would owe him a ton of favors if he could smuggle these guns, so superior to standard Manticore issue, back in. Not to mention, those piece of shit pea-shooters Lydecker set them up with weren't worth two shits and a fuck in a gun fight, and really, he was doin' the system a favor by tryin' to bring 'em in…

But if that fucking Russian from Korea Town blew his cover, it wouldn't make much difference. He stalked across the short distance, pulled open the missive, his eyes skimming quickly over the letter. Price doubled and a new address for meets. Fucker.

494 was going to need to have a little chat with Peter Chekov when they met tonight.

"Do we have to do it tonight?" Max's voice was almost whiny.

"He's got a new client, one willing to pay big money for a small amount of merchandise." Cale almost looked gleeful. Almost. "Might be the first steps in a larger transaction. This is the kind of break Eyes Only has been waiting for-"

Logan trailed off in confusion, watching her fidget. "I'm sorry, is something wrong?"

"I was kind of hangin' with my friends," Max played it off. "At Crash…" She sighed at his look of incomprehension. Leave it to Mr. Stick in the Mud to not understand the joy of hangin' out. "Look, is this gonna take long?"

"Just get in, take a look at the buyer, find out what's going on, and get out." He said, with only a tinge of annoyance. "Then, Eyes Only will-"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go…" Max turned her back on him, stalking out. She walked back in a few moments later. "Are you coming?"

Sooner she got this over with, sooner she could get back to Eric.

Max bolted out of the car, barely pausing to grab the headset that Cale was holding out to her. She took a shuddering breath in the cold night air, refusing to even _think_ about all the things she'd just been considering doing. Another deep breath as she steadied her heartrate. If she got shot tonight because she wasn't on her A game, it'd be no one's fault but her own. Well... no one's fault but her's and Manticore's, the bastards that were responsible for the bi-(sometimes tri-)annual appearance of Ms. Kitty.

And it wasn't until she was almost in position that she remembered.

"Who did you say we're keeping tabs on tonight?" She hissed into the mouth piece as she crawled through the dirt.

"Peter Chekov."

Of course Simon 'Hotness' Lehane was the man who drew out of the shadows and into the light of the docks. Gone were the designer slacks, the pompous button down shirt, the shiny dress shoes. Only the glasses remained to connect him to that other, ritzy life. Max almost wanted to snort. Good, upright piano teacher by day, bad… leather-jacket wearing… arms dealing…

Oooh, look at those arms.

"What's he doing?" She heard Logan's voice over the comm.

"Taking off his jacket," Max replied dreamily, her eyes caressing biceps held snuggly within a form-fitting black tee.

"What?"

Max blinked, clearing her throat. "I mean… umm, yeah. Buyer's taking off his jacket, so they can frisk him." They pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and he just shrugged. The Russians shook their heads, but handed it back to him. Guess they were lookin' for wires, not for weaponry. Though why they needed to when the fabric of his shirt was stretched so tight against sculpted... lean... She cleared her throat again, glancing away. "Not a lot of action… " She slumped back down into the bushes in boredom. "They're just talking-"

Logan interrupted and she forced herself to not grind her teeth into the comm. Or gnaw vindictively on the comm. Or take off the comm, throw it on the ground, and stomp up and down on it. "Can you make out what they're saying?"

"Yeah, yeah," She grumbled, sitting back up. "Two minutes."

"-Ever contact me at my place of business again, I'll-"

"Is not you who should be making threats, yes?" Chekov grinned, eyes crinkling. "You want deal, you play by my rules. My rules, I contact you when and where I want." Chekov's w's sounded more like v's. Like one of those cheesy Draculas on bad late night TV. Max resisted the urge to snort.

Lehane snorted. Max wondered how he could be so cool in the face of a man twice his size. "I'm not stupid, _Chekov_." The way his tongue glided around the name gave Max the feeling that he knew how to speak Russian. She squirmed. "You were just letting me know you could find me."

Peter's grin became even larger, if that was possible. "Is lot of money for so few weapons. I would hate for you to be backing out so close to deal, yes?" Then he frowned a bit. "Why is piano teacher-"

"It's a family thing." Lehane interrupted. "You don't ask questions, and I won't either."

The Russian shrugged, his bald head glinting in the light of the docks. _A family thing?_, Max wondered. Lehane didn't look Italian. Besides, the Russians and the Italians would never do business together, not even if the Irish got their shit together and made an unlikely deal with the Japanese.

Then Lehane and Chekov started negotiating in rapid-fire Russian and Max had to admit defeat with a shake of her head. Who the hell was this guy?

A wheel squeaked next to her head, and gravel bounced down the small incline, making her jump. "Logan!" She hissed in surprise, "What are you doing?"

"I've been calling you for five minutes," He whispered back. "I thought maybe something had happened."

So, a tall man with great arms and a cute ass spouting Russian was hot… so what? She turned back to look at the docks and froze. Lehane was looking straight at the scrub brushes on the small rise in which Max and Logan were currently hiding. Logan's eyes widened and he wheeled a bit backwards as Max collapsed back into the dirt. His eyes swept over the spot that Cale had been in before resting on her. And for a moment she felt blind panic. Fuck! He'd seen her!

Then she forced herself to calm down. It was dark, the men on the dock would be blinded by the lights around them, deafened by the music of the tide, and really, she and Cale were too far away, anyway. No way Lehane had noticed anything.

The Russian and the Mystery exchanged a few more words, nodding grudgingly, almost respectfully, at each other before parting ways. Max waited until Chekov had gotten into his car and Lehane had disappeared back into darkness before breathing in relief. And then she looked up at Logan, dark hair falling into her eyes, and she smiled predatorily as all thought flew right out the window.

"Hey," She grinned, her canines unusually prominent. He looked at her, confused.

"Hey back,"

The two froze at the unknown voice. Well. Unknown to Logan. They looked slowly over their shoulders to see Lehane smiling down at them, a gun trained on Max's back. As if he sensed she was the greater threat. Well, she was, she had to admit. 'Cuz he could of just kicked the back of Cale's wheelchair and sent him tumbling off the incline.

Max tensed, her fingers and shoes gaining purchase in the dirt.

"Relax, I'm not going to shoot." He rolled his eyes, offering one hand to her, but keeping the gun held steady with the other. She ignored his offering, pushing herself to her feet, shaking gravel from her pants, pretending she wasn't happily aware that Lehane had watched her ass as she'd stood.

"Wanna tell me why you're out here spying on me, Max Guevara, Jam Pony Messenger?" He smiled at her as she turned to face him. She frowned, opening her mouth. "It was on your Sector pass, earlier." He explained with a shrug.

Her mouth snapped shut and she shrugged right back. "I don't know. You tell me, Simon Lehane, piano teacher." Her hip cocked to the side and her hands came up to rest on her waist. "You're the scumbag making deals with the Russian mob."

"And why would a little messenger girl care about that?" He took a slow step towards her, gun lowering.

"Little messenger girl could beat your ass, so watch what you call her." She shook her hair, taking an answering step in return. Then paused, looking down in confusion at Logan's hand, grasping her wrist. He held a gun in the other hand. Lehane frowned at Logan's grip on her arm, like that bothered him more than the piece aimed at his stomach.

"C'mon, Max." Logan tugged at her arm, hoping she'd start backing away from the man that he thought oozed a sense of danger.

Lehane shrugged, gun still hanging by his side, and for one disappointing minute, Max thought he was gonna let them go. Then he grinned at her as the older man was dragging her backwards and away. "Give you a ride somewhere?"

She grinned right back, stopping abruptly to yank her hand from Logan's, a little breathless. "Yeah, sure."

"Max!" Logan said sharply.

"I'm not a bad guy," Lehane shrugged, smirking lightly. "A victim of circumstance. I feel the need to vindicate myself to you."

Logan stopped, spinning slowly around to peer at the younger man, as though he were trying to judge the truth behind the words. He must have found some merit in them because he started to speak. "Well, I'll set up a meet with a guy I know, Eyes On-"

Lehane interrupted smoothly, his eyes never leaving Max's face. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. Why don't I get all the details from Max, here?"

"I don't trust this guy," Logan whispered furtively to her as Lehane lounged against a nondescript black car.

"He seems fine to me," Her eyes flickered over Lehane's shoulders again and it was only through sheer force of will that she was able to avoid wetting her lips.

"I am _not_ letting you go anywhere with this guy-"

"I think I can handle myself," She hissed at him. "And back up off me. You've known me for what, a week? You're not the boss of me."

Logan shook his head in disgust, wheeling away.

"So, where to?" Lehane asked as she swayed her way back to him.

This is not within mission parameters, 494. Not Manticore's and not your own.

"How 'bout some coffee?" She heard herself ask.

Max, what the hell are you doing?

His head hung low and he looked at her over the rim of his glasses, through thick lashes, and she just stopped caring. "Know any good places open this late?"

She swallowed. "… I got some back at my place."

Max was rewarded with a Cheshire cat grin that made her thighs clench.

She leaned against the doorpanel, her forehead resting against cool glass, and she watched the streetlights overhead as the car passed them by, trying very hard to ignore the fact that he was a man and she was a woman and they were very much the only people in the car. And if she'd entertained the hope that being alone with him would make her wake up to the situation, she'd find herself vastly mistaken as the air became thicker, hotter, almost muggy.

Outside, it started raining.

"So, what's your name?" She asked, sitting up, turning to look at him when the silence became unbearably heavy and not at all in an unpleasant way.

His eyes flicked towards her and he shifted in his seat. "You already know."

She snorted, releasing the need for just a moment. "Yeah right. Piano teacher by day, mob contact by night. Somehow I'm thinking Lehane might be a pseudonym."

It was his turn to snort as he flicked on the windshield wipers. "Hardly an agent of the mob," And the derision with which he said it made her wonder if he was some kind of undercover cop, or something.

Curiosity burned in her veins, but something a little stronger burned a little hotter. She scooted towards him. "But you're not denying that Lehane is an alias?" When he didn't respond, she leaned in close to him, smirking lightly. "Well, maybe I can guess…"

His mouth twisted in amusement and his fingers clenched tightly against the steering wheel.

"Is it… John?" She was smiling, eyes narrowed, her breath skimming across his shoulder. Fuck, had he left his jacket at the dock? She pressed into his side and he wondered who cares about a stupid jacket, anyway?

"No?" She asked. "Hoow about… Michael?" Her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her eyes falling shut for just a moment. If the human larynx was unable to produce a purr, she made a sound that was the closest it'd ever get.

His voice was deep, his clenched jaw sporadically illuminated by the streetlamps passing them by. "Keep guessing." The light from an oncoming car caught his lenses, making them flash, hiding his dark, dark eyes from her.

Her nose hovered over his arm, breathing him in, as her hand crept out. "How about… _Dick_?" She squeezed his thigh.

He slammed on the brakes and the car veered off to the shoulder and only his strong arm stopped her from flying into the dashboard. A car roared by, the sound of wet tires and cursing heavy in the air, but they didn't notice as he yanked her onto his lap, pulling her head down to meet him in a desperate, hard clash of lip and teeth. His hands moved under her shirt, against her back, and she heard the sound of something popping. It'd take her a moment to realize his firm yank had destroyed the clasp of her bra. Then his hands glided around her ribcage, long, cool fingers slid up and over overheated flesh, and who cares, as she gasped against his mouth, arching into his hands, it's just a bra.

It was pouring outside. The air within the confines of the car was so thick, she could have swum in it.

But it wasn't meant to be. The steering wheel and the narrow seat made everything difficult and though her sneakers had been easy, they had a hell of a time trying to shove her pants off. Finally, he gave up with a growl, and she collapsed back on to the seat next to him, panting. The car pulled back onto the road, tires almost squealing as he pressed the pedal to the floor. The reckless speed mighta had something to do with the way she was squirming into his side, her mouth moving over every inch of skin she could reach, only pausing occasionally to whisper directions against his flesh. When the contours of his neck became too familiar, she ducked under his arm, wriggled against his lap, seized his shirt and tore, smiling in pleasure at the expanse of smooth skin before she began memorizing his collarbone with her tongue. After that, she only pulled away once, settling back into her seat just for a moment to smile blithely at a Sector Cop checkin' passes. Her fuzzy brain recognized that 'Lehane' must be some kind of top shit because he got waved through after only a cursory, wide-eyed glance at his pass, not even a comment about the torn shirt or the girl fidgeting next to him. Then her mouth would move back to his skin and how tough could he be when he was gasping, hips jutting, as her shaky hands tried to pull his belt free? Things were fixing to get interesting extremely quickly when the car skidded to a stop in front of her place.

If he'd wanted to take her against the side of the car she would have let him. But the peal of thunder would have them shoving each other into the building and out of the torrential rains.

She slammed him back into a wall, her hands fisting in the wet, torn edges of his collar as she arched against him, snarling against his mouth. He spun her around, his thigh pressing up between her legs, shoving her jacket down her arms. Part of Max recognized that in their fight for dominance, he was winning, because by the time they'd made it to the door, even a blind person could have followed the trail of her clothes. When she'd finally shoved him through the threshold, sporting only her underwear and one sock, the coffee above her sink was the last thing on her mind.

Her teeth were tugging at his bottom lip as she finished the work on his zipper that she'd started in the car. He pulled away for only a moment, eyes dark and unfocused, as he glanced around the dark apartment, gasping, "Which room?" She pointed helpfully, before her hands dipped into his jeans and speech became impossible. He didn't know if he'd be able to make it to the bedroom, but she released him after a momentary eternity and jumped into his arms, her mouth moving again to capture his.

Flinging his glasses across the room was every bit as fun as she'd thought it'd be.

He didn't have time to deal with her underwear, so he just seized and ripped. By the time that they had stumbled through her door, collapsed on her bed, she had already sunk onto him, grasping desperately at his black-clad shoulders. They grunted as she hit the mattress, and he was driven deeper inside. When he attempted to pull away from her, to better push his jeans out of the way, her hips followed him up, and how could he ever pull away from the slippery, soft, pleasure, pain of her heat?

The stranger with the pretty face didn't at all seem to mind that she was crying out a fake name. Or maybe he did, because every time she did, he shoved hard into her, making the headboard crack against the wall, making her voice cut off in a needy cry. Max caught on quickly and there at the end she was just chanting his name and he was plunging roughly into her, his breathing ragged. Her leg wrapped around him as her body curled upwards, and she let out a final hoarse wail, before dropping back into the bed, trembling, pulsing, and he was only able to last a few more moments before going rigid and collapsing on top of her.

They lay there, breathing heavily for a few moments, before he gingerly pulled away from her. If she'd been expecting him to roll over and go to sleep, she'd sit up in languid surprise to watch him pull the ripped shirt from his body and kick the pants from his legs.

Then he crawled back over her, pressed her down, licked lazily at her naked breast, and it started all over again.

Sunshine glanced across her face and Max woke up to a heavy arm across her torso, a naked thigh across her own. She blinked for a moment in dreamy confusion at the droplets, the last remnants of the rain, upon the window. Then her slight smile fell away as her eyes widened in remembrance and she glanced sharply at him. She wiggled her way out from under him, shooting desperate glances at his sleeping form, hoping he wouldn't wake. She threw on a red t-shirt and some underwear, creeping out of her bedroom.

"Well… look what the cat dragged in."

Max shut her bedroom door gently behind her. "Kendra!"

"Missing something?" Kendra asked, grinning. Max's eyes widened as Kendra wiggled torn underwear gingerly between her fingers. Max made a lunge for them as her blonde friend laughed.

"There's a lot more where that came from, sister." She grinned, releasing the panties to Max's grab. "You shoulda seen the trail of clothes I picked up from the parking lot..." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "So, who was it? New hottie?"

When Max glanced away, Kendra's eyes widened. "Oh god, Max, please tell me it wasn't Eric."

"As if," Max snorted, releasing her shame for a moment of disgust at the thought of the skinny youth she'd left hangin' at Crash the night before.

"Who's Eric?" A rumbling voice washed over the room. "That old guy from last night?"

They turned towards the sound.

Kendra's jaw dropped open.

"Shouldn't you go get dressed?" Max hissed at him. He glanced down at the boxers on his hips, looking up and arching an eyebrow at her. Like, _isn't this enough_? Kendra's face widened into a grin.

"No, no, that's not necessary." Kendra was all smiles, her eyes moving across his defined chest. "No prudes here."

"Kendra!" Max hissed.

"I'm taking it you're Kendra?" He smiled engagingly at the blonde. Kendra practically giggled… _Giggled!_

"Charmed," She came out from behind the counter, making her way towards him, her hand held out in a friendly type manner, when Max snatched her by the arm, pulling her away.

"Kendra was just leaving," Max huffed.

"I was?" She asked in confusion.

Max nodded emphatically, dragging her friend across the room.

"But I don't even know his name," Kendra protested as Max pushed her into the hallway.

"That's okay, neither do I." As Max shut the door on her friend's laughing face.

It took her a moment to work up the courage to face him. "Listen, about last night-"

But he wasn't even in the living room anymore. She huffed, stalking across the way to her bedroom, flinging open the door, getting ready to tell him to get his butt out of bed.

He already had his jeans on, if not yet zipped, and was sitting on the corner of her mattress, pulling on his socks. Her eyes narrowed and she promptly forget that she'd been about to throw him out. So, what, he was just gonna dick and dash?

He snorted. "Don't look at me like that. You were getting set to kick me out, anyway."

"That's different," She protested. He smirked in amusement.

She sighed, conceding the point. "Look, don't take it personally, but I don't even _know_ you-"

"Likewise." He reached for a boot.

"We've exchanged maybe about ten sentences since we've met." Her eyes flicked over his bare shoulders.

"True enough." He stuffed his foot into his shoe.

How she ended up underneath him, his mouth moving over her throat, was still something she wasn't entirely sure of.

"Let me take you for coffee later," He murmured. "I've got this meeting… and afterwards…"

She nodded, her eyes still shut. "Yeah… okay."

"Pulling out?" 494 protested.

"Is that a problem, 494?" Sandoval was frowning.

494 snapped back to attention. "Sir, the mission with Berrisford-"

"The doctors say they found an unusual amount of hormones in your system during this morning's checkup. Do you know why that is?"

494's eyes glanced towards the older man. "Sir?"

"We think you may have come into contact with a female X-series in heat, triggering a hormone dump."

494's eyes didn't widen, but only because he controlled it. His voice was very neutral. "Sir, no transgenic has gone into heat since then X-3's. The suppressants-"

"You may have crossed paths with a rogue X-5, one of the '09 escapees. Did you notice any type of volatile attraction to any females while out in the public?" Sandoval peered closely, distrusting, at the young man in front of him.

Whether it was self-preservation or something deeper that kept him from mentioning the previous night's encounter, 494 wasn't entirely sure.

"No, Sir!"

Sandoval frowned. Lydecker crooked his finger and the two men stepped into the hallway.

"Do you think he's lying?" Lydecker questioned in a soft, no nonsense tone.

Agent Sandoval frowned. "It's hard to say. He's one of the best. I find it hard to believe he wouldn't notice a change in reaction, but I find it even harder to believe he wouldn't report it to us."

"Did he go anywhere last night, make any special stops?"

"With all due respect sir," Sandoval frowned, wondering to what extent Lydecker's obsession with the 09'ers blinded him of the day-to-day operations of Manticore. "The X-series _are_ our operatives. If we had to send out additional support to keep track of our own people, it would negate Manticore's usefulness. We expect our boys to get the job done without any frills."

Lydecker frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm almost positive there's a rogue X in Seattle, one of the females… I'm just not sure which one." He glanced up at the other man, his hand dropping away as his voice took on a hard edge. "Move up the timetable. I want Berrisford out of the picture by the end of the week, but make sure 494 knows to keep his eyes out for a possible 09 escapee."

Sandoval nodded crisply, moving back into the room.

Later that day, when Simon showed up on her doorstep, he was strangely subdued. His eyes flicked over her face.

"What's up?" She asked, wondering if he was having second thoughts about re-meeting his one night stand.

"Is Max your real name?" He asked softly.

She blinked in confusion. "Yeah, of course." Then her gaze narrowed. "Is Simon yours?"

He didn't answer her, just ushered her out the door and down the road to a diner that had shit for coffee and worse for breakfast but the atmosphere was warm as they exchanged false memories and half truths about childhoods neither of them had ever really had.

He didn't try and touch her again, except for one glancing caress across the nape of her neck on their third date. Nothing more than that, until the end of the week when he backed her into the wall next to her door and kissed her long and hard.

Max didn't realize it was a goodbye until he didn't show up for breakfast the next day.

"Whatever happened to that hottie Simon? The one that we thought was an undercover Fed?" Kendra asked, weeks later.

Max snorted. "That asshole? Who knows." And she'd descend into bitterness, wondering why she always let heat get the best of her.

Late one night, cleaning the apartment in a fit of boredom, she came across a pair of glasses underneath a couch. She'd stared hard at them for a moment before tossing them in the trash. Her favorite sneakers were still in that black car, wherever it may be, so she felt pretty vindicated. She fished the glasses out, a few minutes later, and stared at them again. Then snorted in disgust, throwing them back in.

Six months later, she went in to a church, and her eyes widened when she came face to face with a face she sometimes dreamed about, but this particular face belonged to a brother that'd gone round the bend.

And everything became so clear to her.

Six months after that, in a garishly lit cell, a door would clank open and his smirk would freeze in shock as their eyes met. And even though she'd realized months ago what he was, she couldn't help the whisper that was wrenched from her lips.

"_Simon_?"

He attempted to cover his surprise by pursing his lips. "Well, you kept insisting that wasn't my name."

* * *

_Open_

* * *

"You honestly expect me to believe that?"

Max shrugged. "Believe what you want, Logan. All I can tell you is the truth."

He glanced again at Alec, leaning a few feet away, chatting flirtatiously with some blonde X-series. Max could tell Logan was disappointed in her, but he was so brimming with tact he was unable to say anything.

Max snagged Alec by the ear as soon as Logan had left, pulling him away from the girl halfway through her phone number.

"Owowowow,"

She released his ear, glaring. "You wanna tell me why I just had to tell Logan we're in an open relationship?"

He frowned at her for a moment. "'Cuz we are?"

He ducked out of the way of her pop. "C'mon, Max. Can't get more open than us, right? Y'know. Seeing as how we're allowed to date whomever we please… Because we're not dating each other, n'all."

"Way to spell out the obvious, genius, but Logan doesn't need to be privy to every hookup you try to make. He thinks you're with me, stupid."

"So tell 'im we're into threesomes- OW!" He rubbed at the back of his head, glaring. She'd hit him so hard her hand tingled, but the satisfaction didn't stop her from frowning in annoyance at him.

He paused, digesting. Then he grinned. "Wow, you really told him we're in an open relationship?"

She glared. "Yeah, so?"

"Sweet! Maybe he'll tell Asha and-"

Her hand caught him again across the back of his head.

"You're really starting to piss me off," He hissed, his shoulders flexing.

"Likewise," She hissed right back, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Stop hitting up every girl you meet,"

"Listen, honey, unless you're willing to take one for the team-"

It had turned into a brawl after that.

"_What_ are you doing?"

Max glanced up, staring shocked at Logan. She released Alec from the headlock, almost guiltily. "Nothing."

"Didn't look like nothing. Everything okay?" Logan glanced between the two of them as they righted their clothes, brushing off dust, wincing at the twinges.

"Peachy," Max said blandly.

"Fantastic." Alec's voice was even more bland than hers, if that was possible.

"What was that all about?" Logan asked, mistrusting.

"Foreplay." Alec said, then winced as her heel slammed into his shin. He opened his eyes, forcing his face into a pained grimace that resembled a grin. He glanced at Max out of the corner of his eye, speaking in a syrupy tone through clenched teeth. "_Not now, honey_."

Logan looked sick.

Then Alec's grin bloomed into something even more evil, if that was possible. "Hey, Logan, you seen Asha, lately?"

Max didn't even wait for the older man to walk away; tackled Alec right then and there.

Dix walked up, peeked around Mole's shoulder at the two transgenics struggling on the ground, throwing punches at each other. "Hey, what's going on?"

Mole rolled his eyes, wiping the barrel of the shotgun in disgust. "Foreplay."

"Huh," Dix looked back at them. "Looks painful."

"Only thing worse is having to watch it," Mole grunted in annoyance, walking away from the spectacle.

Dix shook his head, "I always wondered why Alec always ends up on top."

The blonde X that'd unwittingly started the whole thing was still watching, a slight, lascivious grin on her face. She'd thought 494 was a free agent when he'd first sauntered up, and she was curiously intrigued by the fact that she didn't seem to mind that he wasn't. She leaned over to an older man who seemed to know the pair. "They're in an open relationship, right?"

The man almost turned green. She shrugged as he spun and stalked away. She pursed her lips, and then watched as Captain Sweetass' hips pressed into 452's a little harder than necessary. She turned, blushing slightly, catching the gaze of a lean X-5 with dark hair and a broad smile. Command was emptying quickly, amidst talks of 'lunch' and 'paperwork' and 'cold showers'.

She was pleased to find that the dark-haired X walked straight up to her, not even a hint of shame.

"Biggs," He nodded.

"Jewel," She nodded back.

His arm slipped over her shoulder as he led her out of command. "So, you're new here, right?" He didn't even wait for her nod, just continued on with a grin. "You ever seen the showers over on Oak Street?"


	6. PQ

A/N: I'm in love with Q. Like, I want it to bear my children, in love with it. And I don't even like kids. Hee. Except for Jaime, and he's fictional. Speaking of which, no more updates on this fic until I get the next chapter of Castaway out. These ficlets keep making me stall.

Ratings

P - K

Q – M

* * *

_Promise_

* * *

Alec was full of promises.

"_You know," he growled, rubbing at the back of his head. "One of these days I'm gonna pop _you_ across the back of the head. See how you like it." _

"_Please," She rolled her eyes, grabbing her backpack from her locker. _

Promises that he never lived up to.

"_Yup. One day." He shook his head, his muddy boots lifting to rest against her desk as he lounged backwards, arms behind his head. "Just gonna take off. Just gonna be me, the open road, and the promise of Canadian woman." _

_The first time he'd said it, she'd been alarmed. Now, she barely looked up from the paperwork strewn across her desk. "Uh-huh, yeah, sure Alec. Whatever you say." Then she pushed his feet off her desk, ignoring the satisfaction as he yelped, crashing backwards and onto the floor. _

And some promises that he did.

_His fingers closed around Gem's shoulder, squeezing gently. Max leaned in the doorway, a serious frown on her face._

"_We'll get him back," Alec said gently to the sobbing woman. "White won't harm a hair on Dalton's little, punk head." And he hadn't, because Alec had gotten Dalton back. Just like he'd said he would. _

Promises that were amusing.

"_Glare all you want," He said blandly. "I'm gonna sit here and stare at you until you snap out of it and agree to come with me." _

"_We are not sneaking out of the barricade just so you can hang at Crash." She hissed. "I've got better things to do then watch you strike out with women." _

_His grin was wicked. "Like I ever strike out." Then he paused. "Besides, I already called Cindy. She'll be waiting for us there." _

_Max felt her will diminish a bit. Lights, booze, and Cindy, or wallowing in darkness because of another near miss with Logan?_

_Still, she was stubborn. "I said no, Alec." _

_He shrugged. "Fine, whatever. Get ready for a long night with these gorgeous eyes, Maxie." He leaned forward, his face completely bland, his gaze boring into her face. She shifted under his stare. She lasted for less than a minute. _

"_Fine," She rolled her eyes._

_He smirked, leaning back. "Atta girl." _

Promises that were as serious as they come.

"_You can't trade yourself for Logan, Max." _

"_What choice do I have?" She hissed._

"_Let me go." He said softly, and she turned to stare at him in surprise. "I'll get him back for you." _

"_Alec-"_

"_I'll get him back." He insisted. Then his gaze firmed, like he was preparing himself for the usual caustic words. Screw up. Worthless. His eyes widened when her gaze softened and she slid forward on her bike, making room for him. _

"_You can come as my back up. I'll need someone to be angry at, anyways." _

_And he'd lived up to his promise. He'd gotten Logan back. And she hadn't ripped Logan a new one for getting caught, 'cuz she was too busy ripping into Alec for getting himself shot. _

But never before had his promises inspired this much fear within her.

He was out of place amidst the bouquets and the make up and the finery and the excited babbling, what with his messy hair, red-rimmed eyes, leather jacket, and low, low voice. "You walk down that aisle, I swear I'll leave. And I'll never look back, Max. Not even once."

His hard voice cut through the air like a knife and all activity in the room abruptly stilled. Every bridesmaid turned to stare at him in shock. Max didn't, but only because her eyes had fixated on him as soon as he'd walked in the door. The room had emptied after that, no one wanting to be witness to such a messy spectacle.

The organ was winding up. The bouquet's aroma, that'd seemed so fresh, sweet, lovely, now seemed pungent, overwhelming, itchy in her sensitive nose. The white taffeta that she'd believed soft, romantic, became smothering under his gaze. The skirts that she'd thought were elegant, princess-like, now seemed silly and heavy. Like a weight upon her legs, keeping her tied to this church, to the man waiting at the altar; chains that would keep her from running.

So, naturally, she took them off.

Still. She felt the need to apologize.

Logan was dashing in his tux. Max didn't want dashing. Max wanted Alec.

"Has he even once told you that he loves you?" Logan demanded once his shock had worn off.

"He doesn't have to." She said blandly.

"He'll leave you," Logan insisted, and Max had a feeling he was grasping at straws. "Like he does every other woman. He'll get tired of you and-"

"No, he won't." She interrupted, turning on her heel, leaving the dressing room and all those frills and fineries behind. Logan followed closely after her, his face still incredulous, like this was a horrible, horrible dream and he was waiting to wake up. The few stragglers who hadn't yet taken their seats frowned in confusion at the bride in jeans, moving hurriedly through the hall, the groom hot on her heels. Cindy, still waiting by the door, gaped in shocked disbelief.

"How do you know that?" His voice harried her through the hallway.

She stopped at the heavy wooden doors, looked past them and into the sunshine beyond. Alec was waiting for her at the foot of the steps, the Bandit already running.

"_But if you leave with me, right now, I'll stay by your side forever." His voice was still low. "Some days you'll hate me and some days I'll hate you right back. But no matter how bad it gets, I won't ever leave. I-"_

"He promised," Max smiled, almost sadly, at Logan, before turning back to Alec, her smile reaching up and grabbing hold of her eyes. And even though she didn't want to rub salt in Logan's wounds, she couldn't help that she fairly flew out of that dark church, into the sunlight, and down the steps to the man waiting below.

* * *

_Quarantine_

* * *

"Whaddya mean, I can't get in?"

"Can't you read?" The man gestured at the large sign on the wall with his the nozzle of his automatic weapon. "Authorized personnel only, beyond this point."

She glared at the large red letters, but she still couldn't quite believe it. "I was just here a month ago, how could the entire city be under quarantine?"

"Do the words 'Los Angeles' mean anything to you, sweetheart?"

452 ground her teeth. She wanted to put her elbow through that black, army-issue skull cap of his. "I'm X-5."

He paused, rearing back only slightly. "You?"

"No, the girl behind me." She replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Let's see a bar code," He frowned.

She grunted in annoyance. "I just got off a mission. It's still lazered."

"Suure, it is." She wanted to slap that knowing look right off his face. "Look sweetheart, I don't have time to playing with little girls lookin' for a thrill. That's a good way to get an arm gnawed off." Then his eyes flicked down the length of her body. "Although, you should probably be worried 'bout more than that-"

"Listen, buddy." She interrupted, heatedly. "My C.O. is already in there."

He frowned in surprise. Then he shook his head. "Even if you are X-5, I can't let you in." He continued on before she could interrupt. "The Toxin made the jump. It's workin' on trannies, now, too."

Her eyes widened and her heart plummeted into her stomach. "I… I have to get him out of there."

"Not happenin'."

The man would only have a moment to reflect, that yeah, she was a transgenic, as she blurred towards him and her elbow smashed into the top of his skull cap. He fell to the ground in a heap, unconscious. She sniffed at his unmoving form, "Pig," before grabbing the gate key from his belt, stepping over him to move through the barricade and to the large, chained gate beyond.

She locked the chains back when she was on the other side. Just because the guy was a douche, didn't mean he deserved to get blamed for releasing the Others into the countryside… or, y'know, get killed by them or worse…

Eaten.

She shuddered.

The streets of Seattle were quiet. Eerie. Nothing moved within the abandoned buildings. But that was understandable, because the most active part of the day within any of the Toxic Cities, Los Angeles, Phoenix, Atlanta, D.C., and now, Seattle as well, was in actuality the night.

The Familiars had been in for a surprise when they released the Toxin within the first few cities. Hundreds died. _Hundreds_… not exactly the millions that they'd been hoping for. The majority of the populace was fine, went about their business with nary a sniffle. Others, less than half the population, had to fight off a minor case of flu-like symptoms.

The Toxin wasn't very aptly named. In reality, it was a virus, crafted by the Cult, incubated in the bodies of those freaky snakes they carried everywhere, hence its name. In the one percent of the population that died, the brain was riddled with disease, eaten away. In the thirty percent of the population that got the 'flu' there existed a small, frightening subset… Roughly ten percent of people had frontal lobes that, after the infection had cleared, were completely suppressed. Everything that made humans what they were disappeared overnight. Familiar's had been in for a shock when they tried to sweep trough D.C., to take Capital Hill, a symbolic victory, after the humans had pulled out. They were completely torn apart by those that'd been left behind the barricade.

The government, fearing the spread of the virus, quarantined the cities. Hustling hubs of activity became urban jungles overnight… literally. And Sandeman was too doom-and-gloom, cloak-and-dagger, old-school (biblically old school) about the situation to tell the government what was really goin' on. All he did was offer the use of his transgenics for missions past the barricade to extract specimens for tests, because transgenics remained immune.

Had Sandeman known, when he'd sent her unit to Seattle…

A noise to her left made her stiffen and whirl. A small, skinny cat slunk past the alleyway and she relaxed with a sigh, re-holstering her weapon. She shifted the pack on her back, glancing around nervously. The Others preferred the dark of night, but they were perfectly capable of moving during the day, and she needed to be on her guard. She either needed to find her unit before sundown, or else she'd need to find a place to set up a barricade. She may be transgenic, but a swarm of snarling, feral Others would still be able to take her down.

Then Max sighed, her gaze sweeping across the abandoned street.

Where are you?

On instinct, she cut through an alleyway and headed towards Sector Two, the Sector they'd been based out of last time they'd had an assignment in the area, well over a year ago.

She found him staring up at the building that they'd once shared an apartment in. He was silent, unmoving, almost confused. She would only have a moment to feel relief before her boot scuffed against the sidewalk and he whirled on her. Relief turned to horror as his gaze fell on her. His pupils were large, crowding out the iris, leaving only a tiny ring of green-gold. His shoulders flexed under the dark turtleneck and his eyes narrowed.

The gate guard had been right. The Toxin had made the jump.

He started towards her, but would stop after a few steps to stare, snarling, at the gun trained on him.

"Stand down, 494."

He didn't say anything, just kept staring at her with that eerie gaze, frozen. It was only one-on-one and his instincts knew to be afraid of the dark metal grasped in her hands. Something tall and blonde slammed into her side and the gun went off.

"Zack!" She shrieked at the man on top of her, raining powerful blows against her defensive arms.

Zack was lifted off of her with a snarl and thrown bodily into the wall. He collapsed on the ground, still, but Max didn't have time to be worry about him because 494 was staring down at her, blood oozing out of the graze over the top of his shoulder. He looked pissed.

But not as pissed as when Zack tackled him. Max shouted at them to just _stop_, but they were no longer the men that she'd known and arms flailed, legs kicked. Max winced as Zack's teeth descended into 494's forearm.

Something sick laughed within as she backed away, her eyes wide in horror. There was a reason 494 had been made C.O.. After he'd transferred in, it'd become harder for the unit to focus on Zack's orders. They fought to control it, but eyes kept darting towards 494, smirking softly in the back. Lydecker had finally caught on, and though he preferred his original 'kids', he'd grudgingly reshuffled ranks to reflect the deeper power structure. Zack, busted to SIC, had been itchin' for a fight ever since. Looks like he'd finally gotten one.

Max turned her back on the sound of fist meeting flesh, the sound of inhuman snarls, and ran. But then shrieked as another body lunged at her. 494's head snapped up, watched as Krit went for a strike. Zack's struggles were becoming fainter around 494's tightening headlock. Another snarl and his knee smashed up into Zack's forehead. He dropped the deadweight upon the ground, stalking towards the fight down the street.

Krit fell back as 494 approached. Looks like power structure was still very much in play. Even more so than usual, actually. If it wasn't so horrifying, she could have laughed. The Alpha, the C.O. of her unit, was the one who'd get the honors of breaking her neck.

"494," She tried again. He didn't even blink.

Her trembling arms held the gun aloft as he continued his advance.

"Alec," She begged.

Alec lunged at her, but had to fall back, twisting out of the way of the bullet when she jerked in surprise, her finger squeezing the trigger. She heard Krit's howl of rage as he came at her. Then her brother's fist smashed into her face, and all she knew was darkness.

She'd wake up to darkness, as well. Moonlight cascaded through the window. She blinked in confusion, wondering how she had gotten indoors. Why she was in bed and not very much dead. Why a heavy arm lay draped over her shoulders and a warm body was pressed against her back; warm and… vibrating?

Alec shifted behind her, asleep, and the sound of his throaty purrs awakened something dark in her she wasn't entirely sure she liked. Fuck. After a moment of fear, she realized it was merely instinct and a traitorous body. It wasn't the Toxin… She was fine. Why was she still fine? The virus should have begun its work by now.

She wasn't even going to go into the fact that a feral transgenic was snuggling her. Better that than dead, in her mind.

She attempted to wriggle out from beneath the heavy arm, but muscle tensed and purrs ceased and his breathing told her he was now very much awake.

"I'm not going anywhere," She begged, twisting her head to look at him, hoping that something within him could understand. "I'm just going to the window."

He blinked at her, with those dilated, cat eyes, before rolling, secure in the knowledge that his mate wasn't going to try and make a run for it.

It _was_ night. Even from this height, without her enhanced vision, she could pick out a few of the Others stumbling down there in the streets, underneath flickering streetlamps. But they seemed to be avoiding this building. They hunkered away from it. Shambled across the street to avoid its large front doors.

She had to find a way to contact Sandeman. Quarantine had only just started. Maybe the phone lines were still up. She crossed the bedroom quickly, ignoring the way Alec sat up in alarm, throwing open the door.

She didn't realize that this was the apartment they'd once shared until she pushed open the door and got a good look at the living room. The faint stain from the wine she'd tossed in his face was still there, by the counter. The hole in the wall, where his fist had gone through after a particularly nasty fight, had never been patched. It was even the same couch, she realized with a blush.

But there the similarities ended, and Max suddenly had a feeling that she knew why the Others were avoiding this building. Before, this place had been an apartment. Now… it was a den. Her unit lay sprawled around the room, sleeping, lounging, resting; lazy, large, human cats. Zack was in the corner, sulky, and Tinga, his mate since '14, one of the first pairs within Manticore's halls, wouldn't even look at him. Guess she was pissed.

Eyes flashed golden in the moonlight, a trick of the light against retinas, as heads turned in wary readiness as the door banged open. They relaxed, only slightly, when they realized it was her. Only slightly, because though they realized she was very much a part of them, they also knew there was something _off_ about her, she wasn't quite one of the pack. Alec's sudden presence at her shoulder had them leaning back into indolent poses.

He drew her back into the bedroom they'd once shared, nuzzling against the curve of her neck, at the imprint of teeth. It didn't take long for her to realize what he wanted.

"Don't come any closer." She warned, backing into a corner.

But he was smirking, and even though it wasn't him… Well, it was him, she realized, catching the superior, playful light gleaming in his eyes. Just the animal him, and not the smart ass, talking him that she usually dealt with. Anyway, even though it wasn't _all_ of him, his smirk still made electricity crackle through her body.

Just like his hand, as it wormed its way down her dark pants. He certainly wasn't wasting any time, she thought with a grumble. Well, at least he hadn't just torn off her clothes. Even operating on instinct, he was a damn tease. Then fingers pressed against her and she gasped as her body rushed to catch up with situation. Alec grinned and she was unnerved by how prominent his canines seemed.

She had to get out of this. She didn't want him. Not like this. Maybe her body did, as her eyes fell shut and she arched against him as his fingers glided out of her, pressed back in, but her mind rebelled.

"Stop," She begged, her voice throaty, pleading.

He paused, confused. He shifted, unsure, before smirking again, crowding harder against her, his head ducking down to nuzzle against her throat, reaching for his fly with his free hand. The movement reopened his wound, though, and she swallowed, watching fresh blood ooze from his injured shoulder. Her fists pressed against his chest, trying to push him away. He pursed his lips, pausing once more, and she could tell he was starting to get annoyed at what he thought was her teasing. Then he frowned and his fingers became demanding, rough and it was all she could do to remain standing as her knees threatened to buckle.

He wanted to play the instinct game? Fine. She steeled herself against the in, out feel of his fingers and made herself stand tall. She pointed at what she was sure was a bruise on her forehead, the place that Krit's fist had smashed, and made a face. "Hurts," She gasped in a voice that was thick, but not with pain.

He frowned at her temple. Then pulled away, almost sulkily, and she controlled the shudder as long fingers drew out of her. Her annoyance faded as his arms wrapped around her and his lips grazed gently over the bruise. She let herself be drawn back into bed, made herself relax as his heavy arm fell back over her, made herself wait until his breathing turned once more into rumbling purrs.

Then her hand dipped into his pocket, drew out what'd she'd felt as he'd been pressing into her. A cell phone. She didn't get a chance to use it until almost an hour later, when Alec's arm finally drew away from her and he flopped to his back.

"You realize of course, we cannot send any transgenics to extract you." Sandeman's voice seemed too loud in the silent room so she pressed the phone harder to her ear, cupping her hand around it. "Not if the virus is working on transgenics. Max, what are you even doing in Seattle? You were supposed to report straight back to headquarters for debriefing."

"Alec called me a few days ago to tell me the unit was being shipped out. I finished up Vladimir early, so I detoured. I didn't think it would be against the rules to meet up with my Commanding Officer before heading in."

His silence told her he was angry. But so was she.

"What am I going to do?" She hissed.

"You have to get out of there. Use whatever means necessary."

"Are you suggesting-"

"If they come after you, and from what you've told me, I believe they will, you have my authority to terminate."

She swallowed, hard to do when her mouth was so dry. "You can't ask this of me."

"No, I'm ordering it of you. You must get out of there. You are too important to be torn apart by a bunch of animals."

There it was again, his veiled hints that was some kind of savior. And now… knowing that she still remained immune to the Toxin that had a one hundred percent success rate on transgenics, that was _all_ of her unit in the other room, maybe she could start believing him.

Then he paused, his silence heavy. His words, when they came, made the blood ice in her veins. "On second thought, do what you can to end them now. You said they're sleeping? How much ammunition-"

"Shut up," She whispered, her hands clenching around the phone. "Don't even think about it."

"You know how dangerous the Others are, 452. How much more so will transgenics in the grips of instinct be?"

She hung up on him. Stared, frowning, at the device in her hands. And then punched in another number.

"Why did you send them here before I'd gotten back from the Bolshevik job?" She hissed into the phone.

"452?" Lydecker asked in confusion. Then paused. "Here… you mean? Max, are you in Seattle?"

"You bet your ass, I am."

His voice was alarmed. "Max, the Toxin's made the jump."

"I'm well aware. That's why I'm whispering into a phone in the middle of kitty fucking central."

Alec rolled in his sleep, and Max froze for a moment. She regained use of her lungs when he sighed, burrowing back into the blankets. Then she frowned into the phone as Deck's words registered.

"You knew that the Toxin was working on transgenics?!" She demanded. "Why did you send them into the quarantine zone?"

"I didn't," Lydecker's voice was harsh, slightly slurred, and Max wondered if he'd had a whiskey relapse. "We lost a team in D.C. over a week ago. When Seattle fell, Sandeman sent your Unit in against my recommendations."

Her stomach clenched.

"Max, you've got to get out of there."

"Not without them." She hissed.

His voice was pleading. "There's no coming back from the virus, Max. You've got to-"

She hung up on him too.

She slumped against the window. Stuck… in the middle of a quarantine zone, surrounded by Others, humans turned to monsters, surrounded by her family, people she loved, something even the Others were afraid of…

Could her day suck any harder?

The blaring ringtone, cheery, bright, annoying, so Alec, made the sleeping cat sit up, glance sharply around the room. She could hear her family stirring in the living room. She powered off the phone, Sandeman be damned.

He was watching her. And in his gaze, she felt the strength of his will, the pull of his command. But she wasn't an animal, so even though she could feel his call, she could ignore it. She picked up her bag, discarded near the end of the bed, next to her gun (completely taken apart, she noted, so Sandeman's little plan wouldn't have worked anyway. Bastard.) and started going through her things.

She found what she was looking for near the bottom, just as Alec was starting to get restless and annoyed. She pulled the medkit from the backpack, crossing to Alec quickly, before he got it into his thick feline head that he needed to come get her. She sank down next to him, pulling open the kit.

She talked merrily to him, almost soothingly, as she shoved the transfusion kit to the side so she could pull out gauze, disinfectant, needle… Her voice seemed too loud in the dark of the room, but really it was more for her benefit than his, anyway. His eyes never left her face. "Remember when you claimed me? How pissed I was at you?" She reached for his injured shoulder, but he drew away, mistrusting. She paused, pushing away the hurt. After a moment, he relaxed, let her fingers probe around the furrow in his skin.

"You didn't even have a name yet," Her fingers pressed at the edges of the raw wound, blood welled in response, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Perfect little soldier. You were too good for a name."

It was a graze, but a deep one, and she'd need to suture after all. She dumped some of the disinfectant upon the gauze. He hissed, pulling away, as she moved the cloth against the wound. "Hold still," She commanded. His expression turned into annoyed amusement. Like, who the hell are you to be telling _me_ what to do? God. Even as a cat, he was full of himself.

Her voice filled every corner, distracting herself from the task. "It was still a month away from my Heat. You told me that I'd better get used to the fact that is was you that I'd wake up next to." The training session had turned into a real fight after his officious statement. And even though she'd never had problems taking him down before, in the matter of a few minutes she was pressed face first into the mat. She'd gone limp as his teeth descended into the curve of her neck, just hard enough to break the skin. Then she'd pushed him away, wiping at her neck, and she'd stopped to stare in shock at the blood on her fingertips.

Fresh blood was welling quickly to replace the caked mess that she was wiping away. "Jondy would kill me if I told you this, but she'd had her eye on you. She didn't talk to me for weeks after you marked me." Max hadn't talked to 494 for weeks, either. She discarded the gauze as the last of the dried blood was lifted away. She threaded the needle quickly.

But he'd been right. It had been him she'd woken up next to, once the hormones had dissipated. None within her unit were brave enough to try and take her with his brand upon her skin. And in truth, she hadn't wanted anybody else. Just him. Just her smart-aleck. Which is how he'd finally gotten a name. She'd forced it on him. Right before she told him that they were more than animals and his claim didn't mean shit. His fist had gone through the wall. Had that really been over a year ago?

He didn't even flinch as the needle pushed through the skin. Just stared at her with that amused, unblinking gaze. She shifted uncomfortably. She'd always hated stitching.

"I know that somewhere within that thick head of yours, Alec is still alive." She said softly, removing herself from the pull and tug of the needle through his skin. "Why else would you have come here? Protected me? Something in there knows what you really are."

Or at least she hoped so. Because what they had was more than the imprint of teeth at the curve of her neck. There was the bullet he'd taken for her. The tired whispers past midnight, when he tried hard to stay awake for her. His calm blandness in the face of her bitchiness, long after everyone else had rolled their eyes and left her alone. His annoyance when even he couldn't take any more and his forgiveness when she crept into bed and apologized for all the names she'd called him. For his jokes and their fights; his sarcasm and their tenderness.

No. He'd always been more than the animal. And she simply couldn't accept that the man she loved was gone.

She finished up quickly, tying off the stitching. He leaned back into the wall, still watching her with those cats' eyes. Even though it wasn't all of him, it was enough of him that she forgave herself for crawling into his lap, letting her head fall against his good shoulder, taking comfort in the fact that if nothing else, he was alive. His arms circled around her and then there were those purrs again.

She'd fix this. She'd find a way to fix this. If she had to stay in the quarantine zone until she was bent and stooped with gray hair, then so be it. She wasn't gonna leave without them.

Not without her Unit, and most especially, not without her Alec.


	7. RS

A/N: Thanks to all me reviewers and of course to the fabulous Nic who shares the same baby momma as me. I've thought of a second part to Q, but the question is finding time to write it.

Where the hell do I come up with this crap? Rune contains a rough smattering of Greek myth and a whole lot of double speak and even more gothic weirdness; if you don't get the greek stuff, it's cool, it's only a tiny bit at the end and you still get M/A stuff without understanding it. If you read this when it first came out, I changed one name to better reflect more common knowledge of Greekiness. And because what I imply by changing the one name makes everything way cooler. Ah hell, people, just go watch Troy.

Rune- T

Sunday- T

* * *

_Rune_

* * *

The stones clacked together within the woman's hands, and Max tried her best to avoid shifting impatiently. Max glanced over at Logan, frowning, as the woman cast the runes across the large rock that seemed to double as her table. Logan shrugged.

The woman, her long, straggly gray hair falling in tangles around her face, made soft noises at the back of her throat as she examined the stones.

Max couldn't believe they were here, in the middle of frickin' nowhere, talking to a crazy person. And yes, the woman had to be crazy, 'cuz if she was to be believed she'd been the Seer that'd first foretold of the Cult's failure well over five thousand years ago.

The cave smelled a bit like urine and dead animal and Max wanted to vomit or run or both. How Logan had found this lady in the middle of the frickin' Wyoming wilderness, Max didn't want to know. Why they were here… Well, they'd come to find out more about the Cult. But the woman was mum, pulling out a sack full of runes instead, refusing to tell them any more without quote, unquote… "guidance." Refusing to fill them in on the Cult until she'd, Max rolled her eyes, read the future.

Unseeing eyes looked up at her and Max suppressed a shudder as the woman's gravelly voice filled the cave. "I was treated as an empress once." The madness at the edges of her voice was haunting. "Before I read the runes true and they had no more use for me." She muttered something that sounded a bit like Greek, something about aching for home, and Max was terrified that she seemed to have understood the woman.

Milky white eyes moved across the stones once more. Long, nimble, aged fingers glanced across the stone chips, feeling, reading, seeing. Max swallowed as the woman's caressed one rune that'd fallen directly in the center of the spread, face up.

"This is you," She hissed, but Max had already known. Then the woman cackled, showing yellowed teeth, hands moving across stones that'd fallen face down. "Look at all the death surrounding you."

Max's heart froze, but the bitch kept talking. "Death of family, death of friendships, deaths in the past…" Eyes that had once been sharp and vital and laughing and young and green and god, Max wanted to get out of here, took in Logan at her side. "And most just for one man. I hope you're worth it, Logan Cale."

"Are you going to tell us about the Cult or not?" Logan's voice was descending into annoyance, because annoyance was better than shock that she'd known his name.

Something within Max froze as the woman ignored Logan, flipping up a rune to show its face, almost a 'Y' but with a line all the way through. "But only one death in the future," The woman tsked. She flipped the rune face down.

She froze, hissing angrily, when Max reached across the stone table and flipped it face up once more. "We're not here to talk about death, lady, we're here to talk about the Cult and what you know about them."

The woman's finger moved again across that strange y symbol. "Is Protection so important to you? Surely you can take care of yourself, Chosen One." She made to flip it back over, but Max's hand gripped the woman's wrist in a steel grip.

"Don't touch that," Max hissed at her.

The woman smiled blandly, a hint of personality shining through her madness. "The stones have already been cast. Merely placing a bit of rock face up cannot change the future."

The woman pulled away with surprising strength, gesturing at another rune, so close to the one at the center. "And why would you even need Protection when you have Knowledge crowding so close at your shoulder?"

Logan was leaning over her shoulder, peering at the runes on the slab, face twisting, having fallen behind long ago. But Max's wide brown eyes were searching the old woman's face.

"Nobody has to die," She wished her voice had filled the cave more surely, wished it could drown out the wheezy, soft laughter.

"Everyone has to die," The Seer corrected. Her fingers scraped convulsively at the rock, torchlight glanced across parchment thin skin, and more of the Greek-that-wasn't. _Everyone but me. _

Max stared unseeing at the horrible little stones, and she couldn't believe she was sitting here having this conversation like those runes actually meant anything. "How?" She finally asked, her voice a mixture of horror and tenderness.

The old woman scoffed in annoyance. "When this era's Final Battle comes, which do you think Fate will provide you with? A book or a shield?" The woman's face descended into darkness, in memory of love long lost. "And shields can only be used so long before they break."

Logan was shifting in unhappy horror. He wanted to get the hell out of here.

Why the fuck was she still talking to this lady? "Shields can be repaired." Max argued, wondering what the hell she was saying and why she was going along with this woman's imagery.

Maybe because it was so disturbingly important.

Logan was frowning. "Max, let's just go-"

"That requires qualities you don't have to give, Chosen One." Had Max imagined it or had that been a hint of disdain?

Max stiffened in righteous indignation. "Like what?" She demanded.

"Love," The woman said simply, finally giving up on the shield analogy, continuing on, unable to see Max's stricken face. "Patience, understanding, kindness, attention. Many things, things you sacrificed long ago." The woman peered at her and something flashed across her eyes, made Max shrink away from her. "Things you've forgotten how to feel. Things you must have a heart to feel. All you have left, Max Guevera, is a head."

"That's not true…" Her voice was broken and Logan reached for her, latex safe, but she shied away.

"You've sat before me a hundred times before," The women's voice was rising up in annoyance, filling the cave, filling every cranny, and Max could not escape her. "And every time it is the same." She shook her head, almost sadly, and she whispered, for Max's ears' alone. "Every life, you will continue to lose him until you learn what is most important." The hag did not add that without a shield, the heart would be pierced, and the body would crumble. It was the same situation over and over again and the woman was growing weary of replaying the same role over and over again. Of telling the Chosen One that she wasn't ready and she would eventually fail only to be reborn and try anew.

That was when it all finally became too much, and Max got the hell out of that insane troll's lair. She didn't say a word on the ride back to Washington. Just stared broodingly out the window, ignoring Logan's every attempt to pull her into conversation.

"Max, don't take it to heart. She was obviously demented."

Max wanted to believe Logan was right. Her head told her to believe that Logan was right. Her heart knew that no regular old woman could possess that kind of strength, could stare at her with an endless past and an endless future and golden light moving through her eyes, could make images of ages long past stir at the edges of her soul like half-remembered dreams. And in every dream, eyes of every different shade, but all with the same look of love as they faded out forever and took a part of her with them.

She swept into command and everyone shrank away from her.

Alec was pouring over maps with Joshua when she shoved him away from the table.

He rolled his eyes, "Now what-"

"Get the fuck out,"

His eyes widened. "Wha-"

"I don't want you here," She hissed, "You don't belong here, you'll _never _belong here."

Joshua reached for her, confused, wondering what Alec had done this time. "Little Fella-"

Alec's eyes were burning with rage as he took her in and he silenced his friend with a swift motion of his hand. "No, Josh, it's okay. Maxie's got a problem, and we'll solve it. Go ahead, lay it on the line. What did I do this time? What's inspired today's bout of head-case Max?"

Max tensed, for only a moment, before her eyes narrowed and she pushed out the words, hoping it'd be enough. "Do I need new reasons? You're a screw-up, Alec. You're worthless." Her mouth twisted around the one word vile enough that it just might do it. "You're _defective_."

Alec stilled, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly.

Logan was watching, concerned, eyebrows furrowing. Command was hauntingly silent. Joshua frowned. "_Enough_, Max," His voice was the closest it'd ever been to a growl when speaking to her.

Max ignored him. She stepped closer to Alec, looking up into wide green-gold eyes, as her voice became steely and soft. "You're defective, and I will never, ever love you."

Alec swallowed, convulsively, staring at her wide-eyed for another half a moment. And then he shoved blindly past her, his shoulder slamming into Logan's as he made his escape, making the older man stagger slightly. Max stared at the spot in which he'd been standing for a long moment, before coming back to reality.

Joshua was staring at her like she'd grown another head. A big, ugly, evil head.

"Joshua," She reached for him, but he pulled away, following Alec out of command. Logan was still watching her.

Mole's harsh, angry voice filled the room. "Will someone get Her Majesty a Midol, please?"

Max walked stiff, head held high, all the way to her office.

Logan would shut the door gently behind him. "Wanna tell me what that was all about?"

Max snorted, pulling a folder from a filing cabinet. "Please, Logan, don't pretend like you like the guy,"

He shook his head, "I'll admit, we have our differences," He paused, weighing the words carefully. "But correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that you two were friends."

She smiled, not at all a smile. "Well, guess you were wrong."

"It was that lady, wasn't it?" Logan's voice was soft. Max didn't say anything, sinking in to her chair, flipping through the folder, glancing, unseeing, over facts and figures.

"Max, that woman was _insane_. She didn't know anything about the Cult, she lived in a cave that smelled like a sewer, and correct me if I'm wrong, but she thought she was telling the future with a bunch of stones. And if you think all that Protection and shield stuff and whatever was talking about Alec, then you're just as crazy as she is."

Max shrugged, flipping a page to not look at another paper.

Logan was making a noise of soft disgust when the door opened and Joshua swept in.

"Alec leaving."

"Good," Max said simply, pulling out a pen from her desk.

"Max, you make him stay." Joshua was frowning angrily at her.

"Why would I do that?" Her voice was very neutral.

"If Alec leaves, Joshua will never forgive Max. _Never_."

She crossed through some numbers, corrected the facts. "It's for his own good."

"It's for Alec's good to be with family!" Joshua shouted. "To be with Joshua and Max until the end!"

There it was again. The end. Max had seen the end of green-gold eyes once before. If she had to watch the light fade again, it would destroy her. She didn't say anything. Joshua stormed back out, to recruit somebody else's help, and Logan followed the tall transhuman out, closing the door gently behind him. And when she was alone, Max finally dropped her pen and buried her face into her hands and stared at the top of her desk but saw nothing.

She don't know how long she sat there in a numb fog, wondering why her life was so frickin' weird and insane enough that that crazy lady's words could ring achingly true. Then the door shoved open and she glanced up, her face freezing when she realized who it was.

"A shield, huh?" He was leaning against the door frame, watching her calmly. "I've always kind of thought of myself… I dunno. As a sword or something. Something manly."

Looks like Joshua had recruited someone to help him after all. Max was going to kill Logan. But for now, her face descended back into neutrality as she picked the black ball point back up. "Are you still here?"

"Dunno." He shrugged, "Are you still fucking mental?"

Her fingers clenched around the pen, but she didn't say anything.

He watched her pretend to work for a few more moments before he stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind him, pulling his shirt from his body.

Max glanced up at his face, her eyes widening. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Come here," He commanded and Max wasn't entirely sure how she'd ended up before him, her neck craned to the side as his fingers trailed across her skin. His fingers pressed against a rune just below her ear, as high up on her head it could get while still remaining both visible and hidden.

"Knowledge," She supplied, her voice soft.

He pulled the shirt from her body and she didn't put up much of a fight. His fingers pressed just above her bra, over her heart and she glanced down at the black rune, hidden beneath his two fingers. The rune that hadn't been there when she'd gotten dressed, earlier that morning. She didn't have to see it to know what it said.

"Protection," She frowned.

He smiled. "You're getting pretty good at reading the runes. How long have you been studying?"

Her eyes darted away. Even without the Seer's clarification of those two all important runes, the knowledge rose up through another half-remembered dream. "I haven't."

He paused for a moment, mystified, before he decided she was trying to joke and smirked lightly. "So you can't tell me what this means, then?"

She glanced sharply up at him, staring, confused, into his eyes. But he grasped her hand and placed it against his chest and she finally made herself look at the expanse of his skin.

There above his heart…

"Why the hell is there a rune on your chest?" She demanded.

He frowned down at it, at her hand held in his, covering the black mark upon his skin. "Dunno. Was hoping you'd tell me."

It all came down to that one piece.

"That's me," She said, glancing up at him, her mouth drying in shock, her eyes widening.

He was watching her, eyes slightly narrowed, full lips pressed into a thin line. Finally he shrugged. "Go figure."

He took a step forward, his hand still on her heart, her hand still on his, but she took a step away. So he took another, and another, until the back of her thighs hit her desk and she could run no further.

His voice was deep, rumbling, a direct contrast to how light-hearted his words could have sounded had he tried. "Any other runes you want to educate me on?"

She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think there's a rune for 'ass', but I could make one up if you want."

His forehead came down to rest against hers, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Please do. And once you do, we can get it tattooed to your forehead."

In another state, an old woman cackled as she felt someone enter her lair.

"Special Agent Ames White… you're much shorter than last we met."

White's eyes flicked over her and he ignored her madness. His eyes narrowed. "I've heard of you, _Cassandra._ The entire Cult knows of your betrayal. How we took you in after the fall of that ridiculous city. And you repaid us with your lies."

The woman drew to her full height and for a moment white hair seemed red, blind eyes seemed green, and there was a hint of a crown around her broken, mad skull. "Not lies, truth. Always truth, though no one believes." None but the Chosen One had ever believed her.

White ignored her impudence. "I suppose you're wondering how I found you,"

"You followed the Chosen One, naturally." Cassandra replied, shrinking back into that laughing hag. "Like you've always done. Like you always will do, chasing the shadow of a woman you cannot have."

White stopped, taken aback.

"Don't believe it? It's all right there." She gestured at the runes, still spread atop the stone. Then the woman stopped, and stared hard. "The Protector," She muttered. She knew that she'd replaced it to its face down position as soon as the girl had left. How had it-

She cackled. Oh, she knew. Yes, she knew.

"So, it's finally come. The _real_ Final Battle, and the Cult's demise," She murmured to herself.

"What was that, you witch?"

Cassandra looked back at him. "I've been waiting for these days for a very, very long time, Menelaus."

White frowned. "And what days are those?"

She seemed strong again, for only a moment. "The days you finally get your ass kicked."

* * *

_Sunday_

* * *

"Logan, my man!"

Logan looked up in wary readiness. "What, Alec?"

Alec grabbed a chair, twisting it around to sink on it backwards, his arms coming up to rest on its back. "You know what day it is?"

Logan turned back to his computer. "It's Sunday."

Alec rolled his eyes, wondering if Logan was being a prick on purpose or if he was just having an anti-personality day. "Yeah, sure. But what day is it?"

Logan didn't even look away from the soft blue light of the computer screen. "Look, I'd love to listen to your mindless chatter all day, but I'm kinda busy-" Guess that answers that question.

Prick.

"It's your birthday, stupid." Alec scoffed. Logan blinked, pulling away from his 'work' to look back at Alec. But his blue eyes focused on the people _behind_ Alec, and Logan suddenly realized that Mole and Joshua were paying way too much attention to their conversation to be only lounging against Sandeman's walls in boredom. Wait… what were the transhumans even doing out in public? Hell, why were any of them out past the barricade? Then Logan focused again on Alec as the other man's words caught up to him. It was his birthday?

"Is it?" Logan frowned in stunned realization, and then let out a small self-deprecating laugh. "Heh. I guess it is." Logan's head hung in that way that Max would no doubt find adorable but that made Alec want to snort in disgusted amusement. Someone fetch the puppy a leash.

Alec's voice would wrench Logan out of his reverie. "So, how old are you now? Forty, fifty?" Logan's head snapped up and Alec gave him a bland, apologetic smile. "I've always been bad at the age guessing thing. 'Specially with…" He gave Logan a knowing smile, "…_older_ people."

"Is there something you wanted, Alec?" Logan's voice was thickening with frustration and Alec was finding that his day was starting to perk up a bit. Still-

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Max is planning a surprise birthday party for you and we're supposed to 'distract' you." He thought the air quotations were a nice touch.

"We?" Logan glanced again at the transhumans who were suddenly very interested in the ceiling, in the bookcase, in anything other than Logan. Then he smiled. "She is?"

Alec shrugged. "Yeah, I don't get it either. It's just cake and beer and a bunch of snake piñatas." He sniffed in annoyance. "Don't even know why it's such a big secret."

"Alec," Joshua whined, still uncomfortable with the whole thing. "Max said-"

"Yeah, yeah," Alec waved the info away. "No telling Logan, it'll ruin the surprise." He looked again at Logan. "So, anyway, I know you love poppin' in to T.C. whenever your little cyberjournalist heart feels like it," Alec continued, ignoring the way Logan's eyes had narrowed, "But this is really important to Max, so we're here to make sure you don't stumble in on the birthday preparations and ruin the surprise."

Logan blinked. "That's your idea of saving the surprise for later?"

Alec shrugged.

Logan rolled his eyes, pushing away from the desk, and coming to his feet. "We're too busy to be throwing a party." Alec wondered what this 'we' crap was, but Logan was still talking and he made himself pay attention. "It's sweet, and I'm touched that it means so much to her, but that's the last thing we need right now-"

Alec's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Where you goin', pal?"

Logan was already walking away, nearly to the door that Joshua and Mole were waiting by. "I'm going to let Max know she can cancel the party. If she wants to celebrate, she can come over here later and-"

"Get 'em." Alec singsonged.

Logan would soon find himself clustered between two tall transhumans, his arms held securely. Alec was fixing him with a stern glare, as though he were admonishing a child. "If you can't behave, we're just going to have to take drastic measures."

Logan didn't know where they'd found that amount of duct-tape, but he knew his clothes would probably never survive the encounter. He struggled in his bonds. "Guys, this isn't funny!"

"Asha will be here at seven to pick you up!" Alec's cheery voice came from the porch, followed by the sound of the front door slamming.

"Alec," Josh whined. "Max said no parties, _ever_."

Alec sniffed, ignoring that unimportant piece of information. "We're doin' this for her own good. Plus, it'll brighten up little Logey bear's day."

"The same 'Logey bear' you just duct-taped to a chair so he wouldn't spill the beans to Max about the party you're trying to put together?" Mole's voice was bland as he momentarily pulled the cigar away from his mouth to shoot Alec an incredulous look.

"I'm doing this for them," Alec insisted.

Mole snorted, climbing back into the van. "Yeah right. You're doin' this because it's the only way you think you'll get away with having a party; covering it up as somethin' for Logan. You just want to drink beer and pick up women."

"Don't forget the piñatas." Alec reminded.

"What does it matter what day it is?" Max hissed at him, later.

"Just guess," He said blandly.

Max didn't feel like playing. "Well, how about a day, that oh my god, once again I find myself short on time. Short on sleep. Short on food. Short on beds. Short on supplies. Short on manpower." Her head cocked and her eyes narrowed, an interesting little smirk twisting her full lips. "Plus, now, thanks to you, short on patience."

Alec pursed his lips, looking heavenwards for a few moments in seemingly deep thought. Then shook his head, looking back at her. "No, guess again."

Max huffed, realizing that Alec wasn't gonna just turn her loose. Going along with his little game would probably be the only way she could get rid of him. She lounged against the wall, fixing him with a blank stare. "I don't know. What day is it?"

"Doesn't work that way," He pointed out helpfully. "You have to guess."

She threw up her hands in disgust, pushing away from the wall of the poorly lit corridor to walk away from him. "I don't know. Sunday?" Her eyes flicked back to him, wondering if he was trying to imply that Sundays were important somehow and if he even _thought_ about mentioning-

Alec shook his head, trailing after her. "You two are just sad."

Max froze, her thoughts derailing. "Two?"

"It's Logan's birthday, Max." Alec stopped next to her, noting with glee her dumbfounded expression. Was it that she hadn't known or she hadn't remembered? Alec found that he liked both possibilities almost equally.

Max fidgeted, embarrassed that she hadn't known and that Logan had been the farthest thing from her mind. "Oh… well. Maybe I'll cruise by there later." Then her eyes snapped up in surprise. "How did _you_ know it was his birthday?"

Alec smiled in that disarming, trustworthy way that immediately put her on her guard. "That's not important-"

He sighed at her narrowed gaze, at her arms folded across her chest. "I might have come across it somewhere-" He trailed off, squinting in forgetfulness. Max snorted. Yeah right.

"Where?" She demanded.

"You know…" Alec shrugged. "Maybe it was in a folder, maybe it was on a computer." He coughed. "Maybe it was in his wallet on his license."

"What were you doing with Logan's wallet?!"

Alec ignored her. "Then I confirmed it with Asha, and yeah, today is his birthday." Any mention of Asha was bound to shut her up.

Max shut up, glowering, at the mention of Asha. Little pixie-stick had known that it was Logan's birthday? Well, isn't that just fantastic. Then- "When did you see Asha?" Alec's smile faded a little bit, and Max's eyebrows rose in alarm. "Alec, did you go out of the barricade?"

"Maybe," He hedged. The he frowned, ignoring the way she was opening her mouth to begin, no doubt, another long, angry, rambling speech about the importance of stayin' put, and keepin' your head down, and stickin' together when something became obvious and he had to point it out. "You just said you'd stop by Logan's later, so you were planning on going out too."

The words died in her throat. She glanced away, muttering, "That's different…"

"Hypocrite." He said cheerfully, barely even acknowledging her fist slamming into his bicep.

Almost as if on cue, they began walking again, strolling together down the hallway and towards Max's office. Max had always thought it strange the way they'd mirror each other's movements without thought. Alec never thought about it. It was easier that way.

He pushed open the door, waiting for her to go in first.

Max's eyes darted back to him as she circled the desk, sinking into her chair. "So…" She glanced away, wondering how she'd get away with asking-

"You want to know how old he is don't you?" Alec's grin was huge as he sank into the worn green couch near her door. The one that'd used to grace his apartment before he decided if he was gonna be sleeping in command almost seven nights a week, he'd need something other than that damn rolly chair that killed the back of his neck.

Max leaned back in the damn rolly chair that always killed the back of her neck. "Well… it's not that… It's just, y'know…" Her eyes darted around the office. "Maybe it'd be good to know what year he was born in… Could… come in handy some day… Y'know." She cleared her throat. "If we had to take him to a hospital or something…"

Alec snorted. "Lame."

Max glared at him, mentally agreeing.

Alec leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. "You really wanna know?"

Her chin firmed. "Yes." Then she frowned. "No..." She bit her lip, her expression becoming unsure. "Wait, yes."

Alec snorted again. "I'll take that as a no."

"Come on," She wheedled.

"What's it matter?" Alec shoved himself back into the couch, one arm resting along the length of the back, legs splaying wide, his pose loosening into lazy satisfaction befitting some kind of cover model. Max glanced away even as he was smirking. "Twue Luv has no age restriction, Maxie."

Max's gaze snapped back to him and she glared, realizing in annoyance that he'd won. She couldn't get away with beating (verbally or otherwise) the information out of him now. If she did, he'd think she wasn't as sure as Logan as she seemed to be and that would open the door to- Max quelled the suffocation and the uncertainty and unhappily pulled out some paperwork from the rickety, un-oiled desk drawer. She threw herself into the tallies and spreadsheets and memoranda, doing her best to ignore him and succeeding quite nicely.

When she glanced up, five minutes later, her eyes rolled in something that looked like annoyance. Alec was fast asleep, his head at an unnatural angle against the back of the couch, mouth slightly open.

Some unimportant missive from some idiots in Washington ordering all transgenics to cease and desist their anti-American activities bounced off his chin. His head snapped up, eyes confused, darting around. "Huh, what-"

"You were snoring," She lied.

"Liar," He muttered, trying to shake the sleep away, his neck protesting.

She turned back to paperwork, ignoring the guilt. Alec's eyes were shadowed. Always shadowed, lately, with a hint of bruising below; testament to his lack of sleep. She couldn't count how many times she'd told him to just go home already, to come in to her office and find him dozing on that green couch he'd put in here without her permission. He probably deserved a few minutes of rest. But the awkward angle of his head had ensured that she'd have to put with his bitching for hours if he'd remained asleep. Plus, watching him doze reminded her of how tired she was. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to sneak in a few hours.

Oh wait. She shifted in discomfort. Yeah, she could. A week ago. Last Sunday.

Maybe neither Max nor Alec had gotten much sleep since last Sunday, but that was merely status normale. Really, to be completely honest, all of T.C. was tired. On edge, too. Jumpy.

And that's when it clicked. Her head snapped back towards him. "Why would you care that today's Logan's birthday?"

Alec opened his mouth, so of course that's when Dalton's skinny, dead-meat neck would crane around the corner. "Kegs are set up at Mess, Alec, but we're all kind of confused what we're supposed to do with the big paper snake things." He shifted unhappily, glancing between the two transgenics in the office as he shared, "I think there might be something in them."

Alec's eyes widened and he glanced at Max. Her face was completely calm. "I'm going to kill you." She said simply.

Dalton's eyes widened, unaware she'd been speaking to Alec, right before he retreated quickly.

"C'mon, Max, everyone could use a little break," Alec whined, his arms only tensing slightly in preparation to come up and protect his too-pretty-to-be-broken face.

"You march straight down there, and tell 'em the whole thing is off." She glowered, towering over him, her hands on her hips.

"Yeah right!" He exclaimed. "I'm not goin' to get ripped to shreds by an angry mob because you're the Anti-Fun Patrol!"

Her finger poked him hard in the chest, "Yeah, you will, or I'll-"

"Logan already knows about it." Alec interrupted, glaring sourly as he rubbed at the spot she'd poked, secretly glad that his necessary stop by Logan's, to keep the man away from T.C. for a few hours, had also prevented him from being a liar… Well… mostly. "Said he can't wait."

Max deflated. "What?"

"Asha's gonna swing by his place to pick him up around seven."

Max snarled. "What?"

"I told him the whole thing was your idea."

Max blinked. "What?"

"Fascinating repertoire." Alec said blandly. "Seriously. I'm on the edge of my seat."

"Shut up-"

"Yeah, keep proving my point, Maxie." He flopped lengthwise, stretching out along the couch, his head pillowing against the armrest as his eyes fell shut. "Listen, I'm beat. The whole thing with the Familiars this week, and the President, and then trying to plan this party... Wake me up in half an hour, 'kay?"

When he didn't feel Max move away, he smirked. "I can't see you glaring at me, stupid. My eyes are closed."

Max started, her glare falling away as she muttered, "There's only one stupid person in here, Pretty Boy, and it sure as hell ain't me." She sunk on to the narrow edge of the couch not taken up by his hips, pissy and frowning. "I can't believe you invited Asha," She scowled. Alec's smirk didn't flag.

Not until she hesitantly, tentatively leaned back against him, her tensed lower back just hitting his hips, as though she were waiting for something.

The couch was narrow, but he knew it would just hold them both. He'd known since three Sundays ago when she'd finally gotten tired of trying to sleep in the stupid, rolly chair that was hell on the back of a trannie's neck.

When she'd tried to push him off the couch in a half-awake stupor, but Manticore reflexes had him grasping her arm tightly in ready, sleep-deprived, shadowed-eyed wariness.

When he'd woken up enough to realize who it was and what she probably wanted, and he'd snorted, 'cuz there was no way in hell he was sleeping in that damn rolly chair ever again. And he wasn't sleepin' on the floor either. If she wanted to sleep on the couch-

When he'd pulled her down next to him, turning sideways so the green cushions would juuusst hold them, his arm encasing her, caging her, keeping her. Max hadn't been able to run from the trap of skin and warmth and feeling 'cuz she was too tired and the couch was almost as ridiculously comfortable as Alec's body was warm and she'd fallen asleep almost immediately.

When he'd woken up Monday, he was splayed on his front, drooling into the cushions, and she was nowhere to be seen. Joshua would helpfully point out that someone had written 'Smart Ass' beneath his barcode in permanent marker. He'd found the nearest mirror, shoving his collar down to stare wide-eyed, neck craned, back at his reflection, at the messy scrawl below his designation.

He got over it, though 'cuz when she tried again to push him off the couch two Sunday's ago, (not nearly trying as hard, he'd noted) he'd resisted sleep long enough to add 'Bitch' to the black lettering on her back. He'd even taken the time to model it after the other Minoan symbols, giving them the same blocky appearance. (Shark DNA, my ass, he'd snorted, containing laughter) Logan's mouth had dropped open when she'd uncomfortably pulled down the zipper of the black turtleneck the following morning. And Alec had just decided to pop in. "Heh, look at that, Sandeman _does_ know what he's talkin' bout." He'd smirked as she leapt from the chair, arms reaching behind her back to pull the zipper back up. She wouldn't realize what'd caused Logan's shocked, uncomfortable silence and Alec's smug countenance until Logan sent her the picture later that day.

One Sunday ago they'd paused between blows to declare a truce and just take a frickin' nap because they were both tired of wailing on each other and cooking up new schemes to embarrass each other. And even though the week had descended into craziness after that, and neither of them had had much sleep since, Alec found that the whole experience had relieved him of a little bit of stress and he began thinking, hmm, what could he do to make other trannie's similarly stress-free? It was just fortuitous that he'd happened to have Logan's wallet for unimportant, in no way nefarious reasons (really, he'd just _happened_ to have found it on the floor of Sandeman's house the previous week and he was _totally_ gonna give it back to Logan with a stern warning 'cuz _he_, Alec, was a good guy and you shouldn't just leave these things lyin' around where just _anyone_ could pick them up).

He'd felt even more lucky when he happened to accidentally on purpose glance at Logan's license when he was going through the guy's credit cards and realized that Logan's birthday fell on the very next Sunday. _This _Sunday. A perfect excuse for a stress-relieving party. Plus, he'd been all good moody and it was a perfect opportunity to share his good mood with the rest of T.C.. Logan's interest in Max could officially be declared creepy, but that didn't have anything to do with Alec's good mood. He was just in a good mood. Good moods happen sometimes. Especially on Sundays.

Max was still there, leaning slightly against him, pausing, waiting, surprisingly patient, but beginning to tense in unhappiness. She never just lay down next to him. She always waited for him to pull her down. And he felt like a chump for doing it, because it gave her the power, let her delude herself into thinking it wasn't her choice… but he couldn't help it. He always pulled her down. The tenseness melted from her muscles as he reached for her. His eyes fell shut, in pain or in tiredness or in something else a little bit happier, who knows, as he pulled her down, his arm tightening around her as she pressed into his back with a sigh.

"Half an hour," He murmured against her hair.

"Mmhmm." Her eyes didn't even open.

Logan would stalk into Mess an hour later, rubbing strange, red, nearly hairless spots on his arms. Asha trailed behind him, trying hard to contain a smile. "Have you seen Max?" He cornered Dalton, demanding angrily. Dalton ripped away and retreated for the second time that day, telling himself he wasn't a coward, it's just that he didn't want to die. Or worse, be put on the toilet duty for the rest of his adolescence. Smelling like disinfectant would really cramp his style.

Dalton ducked behind Gem, hiding from Logan, pretending interest in her conversation with another X-5. "So what's this party for again?" The male asked. Dalton paused, glancing across the guy's face, making sure he wasn't trying to hit on Gem. He relaxed after a moment, realizing he wouldn't have to defend his pseudo-mom's honor.

Gem shrugged. "Dunno. Knowing Alec, probably just because it's Sunday."

"What's so great about Sunday?" Not that the X-5 was complaining. He liked parties as much as the next guy. Usually. His eyes glanced across Dalton's face, wondering why the teen had to wander up just when he'd been about to make his move.

"Dunno," Gem shrugged again. "This is just the fourth Sunday in a row he's been all good moody."

"Wonder where that guy gets his patience," The blonde shook his head. "If I was him-"

From the corner there came a loud exclamation, cutting off their conversation.

"Hey, there's candy in these things!"

Gem would get an idea as to the source of Alec's moods when she dropped off the next load of paperwork in Max's office the following day. She was only a little tired after the long night. Mostly, she was the most relaxed she'd been in weeks, and she'd meant to tell Max and Alec at the party what a great idea it'd been, but she'd never seen them. Now she knew why.

She tried to creep back out, but Alec's eyes would open and he'd sit up slightly. "What time is it?" He asked, voice still thick with sleep.

"Eight," She paused by the door, fingers resting on the door frame.

"Shit," He muttered, glancing down at Max's still form. "We gotta get to the party."

"In the morning." She finished.

His eyes widened, turning back towards her. "As in Monday morning?" He asked. Gem shrugged, almost in apology for the change of date. Alec glanced again at Max for a moment, and Gem could almost see the decision, to wake her or not, warring on his face. She shut the door gently behind her when he lay gingerly back down, his eyes shutting once more. Gem didn't blame him. She liked to put off Mondays for as long as possible, too.


	8. TUV

A/N: All three of these make me snicker. I didn't feel like dealin' with angsty Max this week. The original U was a part II of my earlier Daughter one-shot, 'cuz let's face it; Max and Alec are destined. Figured the people who do like their angst wouldn't want me to destroy Daughter and the people who don't like angst would have skipped over it anyway. But hey, if you're interested, it's over on my LiveJournal. The new U still makes me gleeful in that snapshot-of-a-misty-future sort of way.

Thanks, as always to my reviewers. You 'nonymous cuties and people I've never gotten a chance to reply to; reader, Ashley, Ali, angeltearz, and CindyZ… youse all rocks my socks! Nic (how YOU doin' waggles eyebrows), pyro, tvmaniac, p3karen, ariana, chica, spinx, and FiveofFive (snort, giggle, LOVE)… y'all already know I love you!

Only four more after these ones. Awww. Me is missing them already.

* * *

T – M

U – K

V - M

* * *

_Touch_

* * *

"Logan," Dix intercepted him halfway through Command, jogging to catch up to the slightly taller man. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"Came to see Max," Logan didn't even pause, still moving towards the hallway just off of Command, the hallway that hid Max's office.

"But… but it's a _Tuesday_." Dix trailed after him, unable to disguise the dismay in his voice.

Logan barely spared the transhuman a glance. "Yeah, so?"

"_Nobody_ sees Max on Tuesdays." Dix exclaimed, at a loss.

"Somehow I don't think she'll mind," He shot Dix a small, amused smile, reaching for the doorknob.

"Hey Dix," Luke reared away when he caught sight of the human, his eyes widening. "Logan, what are you _doing_ here?"

"Is there an echo in here?" The blonde muttered in annoyance, eyes hardening under his glasses, his hand stilling only inches from the handle.

"Don't you know it's a Tuesday?" Luke asked, flabbergasted.

"What's so special about Tuesdays?" Logan's voice was thickening in frustration as he pulled away from the glazed, rippled glass of the hallway's door.

Luke shifted in discomfort, making little scrunching motions in the air with his hands and Dix was shooting Logan a glance and looking away. "_You_ know..."

No, Logan didn't know, and the meaning behind Luke's hand gestures was totally lost on him and he scowled at them both.

"Luke…" Joshua's voice cut off and his face fell into open-mouthed shock when he caught sight of Logan, fuming between the two transhumans. "Logan!! Why is Logan here? Doesn't Logan know-"

"I know," He ground his teeth, "It's a Tuesday."

"You_ know_?!"

Logan paused, staring in confusion at the taller man.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably as Joshua blushed, realizing his mistake.

"HEY! Who let that monkey in here?"

Logan sighed. "Hello to you too, Mole." as the green transhuman stalked up, pulling his cigar from his mouth.

"Don't you know-" But Logan was done listening to them and had yanked open the door, moving into the hallway, the door falling shut on Mole's voice.

"-that only Alec is allowed to see Max on Tuesdays?"

The transhumans descended into horrified silence, exchanging glances with one another.

"Well," Mole gestured at Luke. "Go get 'em."

"You go get him!" Luke exclaimed in fear.

They all stared at each other for another half a moment. And then the group scattered.

Logan stalked down the hallway, annoyed, wondering what the hell was wrong with everyone, it hadn't been _that_ long since he'd last been here, had it? He reached for the doorknob with a frown.

And would fall absolutely still, muscles tensed in horror, when Max's low groan filtered out from beneath the door.

"Oh God…"

He stood there, frozen, arm still outstretched; like a rabbit, sighted in a warren.

"Right _theeeeere_."

Like a deer, watching its impending doom rush down a darkened highway at 75 miles per hour.

"Alec!"

And like some of the more unfortunate and less intelligent of God's creatures, instead of gracefully retreating, Logan charged right into the face of his doom.

The door sprang open, slamming into the wall.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Alec sat up, a confused frown on his face. Max, beneath him, turned to look at the door in wide-eyed, uncontrolled shock.

They were both still dressed. Max was stretched out, face down, along the top of her clear-for-once desk, Alec straddling her hips. The two transgenics exchanged a glance, and then Alec lifted himself off of her with a shrug.

"Logan!" Max hissed, swinging her legs off the desk, coming to her feet. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Me?" He exclaimed in unhappiness. "What are _you _doing here? I thought…" He trailed off, unable to see what he'd thought they'd been doing. But could you blame him? She was always so busy and he still had Eyes Only and there was the siege and he didn't see her very often anymore, and he couldn't help the little bit of paranoia...

And then it hit him.

"What the hell?" He exclaimed in shock, disgust, and dismay, "Was Alec giving you a _massage_?"

Alec smiled blithely at Logan, his fingers making the same scrunching motions in the air that Luke had, in a gesture that now seemed to make more sense. "Magic fingers," He said cheekily. Logan just stared, wide-eyed, as Max's face colored.

"Alec-"

"I'm gone." He swept past the Ordinary, turning to peer around Logan at Max when he hit the hallway. _Five minutes?_ He mouthed, flashing five digits.

She shook her head quickly, flashing ten in response.

Logan turned to scowl, mistrusting, at the younger man, who was scratching the back of his head, glancing upwards in innocence. Logan slammed the door in his face, turning back to stare, annoyed, at Max.

Max sighed, moving around her desk to sink into her chair, rolling her not-quite-there-but-almost neck.

"Wanna tell me what that was about?" He asked flatly. Some of the relaxation drained away as her back tensed up. Max sighed again, and she could tell it was starting to get on Logan's nerves, but she couldn't help it.

"It's a Tuesday," She said simply, rubbing at the back of her neck, hoping that this conversation wouldn't destroy all the time Alec had put in.

"What the hell is so important about Tuesdays?!" He demanded. Max scowled at him, and he gentled his expression.

It was actually what_ wasn't_ important about Tuesdays that made them so important. "Wednesdays are for command meetings, which generally last all day." She started blandly. When Logan opened his mouth, her voice raised a hair in annoyance and she pressed on. "Thursdays are for weapon's inventory and training. Fridays we check to make sure we have enough food, beds, and supplies for everyone. Saturdays are for heists, because we never have enough food, beds, or supplies for everyone. White always tries to pull some kind of crap on Sundays. And we've got to meet every policeman, councilman, and officious senator in this state every Monday to reassure them that we're not furthering our evil plot to take over the world."

"And Tuesdays?" He demanded, not appearing terribly sympathetic.

Which is maybe why her voice descended into an angry hiss. "Tuesdays are the only days I have to myself. The only days I get to relax. And even then I've got to spend all day in Command, 'cuz something always inevitably goes wrong."

Logan frowned, eyebrows drawing together in unhappiness. "Max, if you wanted a neck rub-"

"Don't even finish that sentence." She interrupted, waving the ridiculous suggestion away.

First of all, hole in the glove, dead Logan on the floor. Second of all… who the hell wants to be massaged by latex? She didn't have the heart to tell Logan that just _feeling_ someone else's skin against hers was part of what made the whole thing so relaxing. Couldn't mention that her shirt almost always ended up discarded in the corner as Alec's capable hands kneaded her pliant flesh. Didn't dare breathe a word that _touch_ was so important to her, not when he was unable to do so.

The guy had had enough trauma for one day.

Max changed the subject after that, 'cuz she could tell Logan was just aching to forbid her from receiving any more Alec massages. And it was a good thing she did, because if he'd have tried, she would have had to kick him out of T.C. and revoke his gate pass and that was a headache she didn't wanna deal with right now. As it was she was gonna have to give the guards a 'no Tuesdays' stipulation for the man.

When Logan finally left, still annoyed, after giving her the rundown on the latest crooked politician, even more annoyed when she'd told him she just didn't have _time_ for his mission right now (and no way was she givin' up her Tuesday for it), Max sagged back into her chair.

It was just as she'd feared.

Her neck would have to be entirely reworked.

Dammit.

Exactly ten minutes after Logan had stormed in and two minutes after he'd stomped out, the door opened gently and Alec peered into the room, eyes darting around. He caught sight of Max, watching him in amusement, and relaxed, shoving the door the rest of the way open.

"So," He asked, conversationally, closing the door behind him and crossing the short distance with long, lazy strides. "How'd it go?"

"Peachy," She replied blandly, as he offered her his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. "He was way understanding."

"So you told him?" Alec asked in surprise, pushing her backwards until the back of her thighs hit the desk, his fingers rubbing hard, slow circles at the small of her back.

The contented, hooded expression died and Max glanced away in guilt. Alec's surprise fell away and he chuckled, low, and Max had a feeling she'd be paying for her silence. But come on, the poor guy had enough of a shock for one day.

One moment Alec was smirking at her, and the next her cheek was pressed into her desk as he shoved her pants down and out of the way. She blinked, gazing across the worn oak desktop in confusion, once again amazed at Alec's quick reaction time. Then the sound of his zipper being lowered filled the room, loud in the enclosed space, and she started squirming.

"And you say I'm always ready," His laugh was low and deep.

He hissed, teeth clenching, arms bracing on the desk around her to steady himself when her straining paid off and skin met skin and he was almost sent to his knees, his legs threatening to buckle. That's what he gets for being so damn territorial.

"Are you still talking?" She smirked, wiggling slightly, slickly, against him.

"Are you?" As he pushed into her and she gasped, her eyes squeezing shut, her fingernails scrabbling at the worn desktop when he didn't give her time to adjust, immediately setting a gentle rhythm, gliding out of her wetness and sliding back in. But it wasn't enough and she was tensing up. She tried to reach back, to pull him in tighter, writhing, needing it harder, faster, but he pushed her hands away and his own hands came up to knead her hips, her back, her neck, everywhere, and she went limp with pleasure.

Then his hands came back down to grasp her hips, warm and steady, and he deepened his angle, each thrust quick, hard, fast and filling, and Max became downright boneless.

Magic touch or no, if she'd been able to move, she'd have killed Alec for his soft laugh.

Mole snorted, watching Logan storm out of T.C. He glanced at Luke, mouth twisting. "Must be nice to have an Ordinary's sense of smell," He grunted in annoyance.

Luke blushed.

They would both freeze, watching Logan sweep back in only a few minutes later, pulling out clear, surgical gloves, the spare from his pockets, 'cuz you never know, a look of stubborn determination crossing his features.

"Lunch time!" Mole bellowed and Command emptied in a matter of moments.

Logan ignored the rush of people. Guess Tuesdays weren't that lazy if people were so desperate for food. He stalked into the hallway, frowning to himself. He'd prove to Max that she didn't need Alec's touch. That his massages could be just as nice, and, in fact, would be even better, because they shared something deep, and ethereal, and moving…

"Oh _God!_" Came Max's hoarse voice from down the hall. "Right _there_!"

Logan shook his head, smiling, his steps not even slowing. He'd show her.

* * *

_Umbrella _

* * *

"Come back!"

Logan blinked, watching a small, child's umbrella blow past him only moments after the little girl's cry reached his ear. The child was huffing across the grass, after the pink parasol, brown hair in pigtails, face etched in misery, so naturally Logan helped her out. He darted off after the flying umbrella, grabbed it easily.

She was standing there on the park's concrete path, huddled, miserable, in the light misting of early morning rain. He handed her the frilly pink umbrella with a gentle smile.

"You okay?" He asked, kneeling next to her, safely under his own dark umbrella.

The girls bottom lip quivered for half a moment before she drew into herself and returned a steely eyed, wary, carbon copy.

"My dad can kick your ass," The girl, no more than five, warned.

Logan blinked.

"Jess! How many times have I told you not to run off? Hey, pal, thanks so much-" The voice from above trailed off in amazement as the stranger jogged up. "Logan?"

He glanced up, at once stiffening and becoming limp in shock, back and forth between the two reactions before he found his voice. The man was no stranger. "_Alec_?!"

Familiar green eyes flooded in amusement. "It _is_ you. Man, what are you doing in San Francisco?"

He stood slowly. The little girl glanced between the two men. Logan shook his head as his own amusement reared. Small world. "I've been here for a few years. After the bombings…" He trailed off, frowning pensively at the little girl. Alec gestured impatiently for him to continue. "Well, I tried New York for a while…" He trailed off, grinning sheepishly, shrugging.

"Too much corruption for even the great Eyes Only, huh?"

"A man could get no sleep," Logan joked wryly, snapping his umbrella shut when he realized the gray San Fran morning had given up on the drizzle.

"Well, we been here for probably about a year and a half," Alec leaned back, his hands dipping into his pockets. "It's a crazy world, huh? Living right here in the same city as you…" Alec paused, as it occurred to him there hadn't been an Eyes Only hack on the area's pathetic excuse for cable in the entire year and a half he'd been here.

Logan saw his look, but didn't say anything. He'd given up on Eyes Only after New York, his wife insisting that it was too dangerous, especially with-

Speaking of Jack, there he was, six year old eyes gleaming, looking up at his dad. "Who's this, Dad?"

Logan and Alec glanced at each other, both struck by the surreal nature of this entire meeting. Jess daintily closed her umbrella, shaking it gently, her eyes darting at the boy standing next to the other man.

"This is an old…" Logan trailed off, wondering what to define Alec as. He finally just settled on "Friend," and he was kind of glad he did because the younger man's eyes warmed in appreciation and surprise.

The six years old eyes flicked over the five year olds face and his blue eyes lit in something akin to glee.

The adults didn't notice. "Where are you living?" Logan asked.

Jack's face scrunched in mockery. "That's a stupid umbrella."

Alec grunted. "Just outside of the city, up north. We didn't want to have to deal with city limit taxes."

"No it's not," Jess hissed back, clutching the handle closely, protectively, to her body.

"You're kidding!" Logan exclaimed. "Us too!"

"It's all girly," Jack made a face of disgust.

"You know where they're putting that new county road?"

"No, it's not!" Jess stamped her foot in annoyance. Jess did not _do _girly.

"Yeah, that's probably..." Logan trailed off, thinking… "Probably about twenty minutes away from us."

"It's _pink_," The look on Jack's face made it clear that there was nothing quite so offensive on earth as the color pink.

"You're kidding!" Alec shook his head, amazed. "We should have dinner sometime or something." Logan nodded speculatively in response.

"So?" Jess retaliated, arms folding across her little body.

"Everyone knows pink is _girly_." Jack was frowning.

"So…" Logan smiled, trailing off. "You ever hear from Max?"

Jess glared at the horrible, older, larger boy. She did not like girly! Jess liked catching frogs and playing on the monkey bars and making mud pies with her dad and stomping on boys who called her girly. And pink was not girly, Jess knew, because she liked pink. And maybe the edges of the umbrella was just as frilly as the dresses her mom sometimes made her wear on special occasions, dresses she hated, but Jess liked the umbrella, so the umbrella wasn't girly either. So there. "Shut up," She snapped.

"More often than I would like," Alec snorted.

"Awww, what do you know," Jack sniffed. "You're just a _giiiirl_."

Jess's little fist popped him right in the nose. The two adults turned, eyes wide, as the boy exclaimed loudly, hands flying to his face.

"Jess!" Alec cried in horror.

Logan, crouching next to the blonde boy, pulled his son's hands away from his face, took in the little bit of blood at his left nostril. He felt a little bit of righteous indignation well within him, but Jess was scraping her foot against the concrete, looking down in shame, and hell, they were just kids, so Logan let it go. He turned back to his son and Jess's head came up and she stuck out her tongue at the older boy, eyes gleaming.

Then she glanced up and caught her father's frown, and even though his eyes were amused she knew she was in for it.

"I should probably get her back to her mom," Alec said blandly, and Jess's eyes widened even further. "She's got some new dresses for Jess to try anyway."

Jess's life was horrible. She would never live to see another day. She couldn't possibly go on, knowing of the frills waiting at home for her. Woe. Jack's eyes gleamed in vindictive glee at her morose face.

"Look me up sometime, okay?" Logan stood back up, grasping his son's hand firmly.

Alec glanced at Jack's narrow face, still unhappy, blue eyes still narrowed in Jess's direction. "Yeah sure." He paused slightly. Then, finally looking away from Jack's face with an amused smile, Alec said, "Tell Asha I said hey."

Logan started in surprise. And then glanced again at Jess, still pouting by her father. He shook his head. The girl's fist in his son's face had confirmed his suspicions. "Tell Max… well… Tell her I said hi."

Alec shrugged. "Will do."

The two men parted ways, headed in opposite directions along the park's trail.

"How many times have I got to tell you, no beating up boys?" Alec's frustrated voice wafted back to Logan.

"But Daddy, he said my umbrella was _girly_!"

Alec paused, frowning, looking down at his daughter. "He did?"

She nodded in misery.

Alec snorted, resuming walking once more, his daughter's hand clasped in his. "Aww, honey, he's just a _boy._ He doesn't know anything."

Jess smiled up at her dad, and all was right in the world once more. Then her eyes darted backwards, to the people moving away and Alec rolled his eyes. Why did love with his women, his wife and his daughter, his two tomboys secretly in love with all things girly, always start with violence?

* * *

_Vacation_

* * *

Max and Alec no longer believed in vacations. Because fate or destiny or some great, big cosmic joker in the sky kept givin' them time off without their asking or even wanting.

Like there was that time… that they'd headed into the Canadian mountains to track down that bear-like transhuman the yokels insisted was big-foot, and an avalanche had trapped them in that cabin for almost two weeks. Amazingly enough, the cabin, some kind of Mounty retreat, was fully stocked and they didn't have to worry about starving to death. Which was great, 'cuz that meant they they could focus all their energy on avoiding killing each other. At the end of the two weeks, Max knew more commercial jingles than she'd ever wanted or had even believed existed. Alec was right though, they were kinda catchy- Max shoved the thought away, focusing instead on how annoying it'd been to hear the same tunes over and over again as Alec wiled away long, boring hours with a surprisingly _un_melodic voice.

At the end of the two weeks, right before Logan had shown up with the cavalry and ice-picks and a trannie that looked like a sasquatch and a path cut through the snow to their door, everything had come to a head.

"You sing that song one more time…" She hissed.

"What are you gonna do," He frowned right back. "Scowl me to death?"

She'd thrown a punch at him and he'd caught it easily, yanking her in, frowning down at her. And Max had grunted as she'd slammed into his body, her soft flesh yielding to hard muscle. She probably shouldn't have looked up at him, pressed as close as she was.

She'd stared up at him for a moment, the wind still lodged in her throat, and his eyes had darted to her lips for half a second.

And Logan had come charging in and Max's boot slammed into Alec's shin and all was right with the world once more.

Then there was that time in Death Valley, searchin' for one of Mole's old unit mates, and the blinding, biting sandstorm that'd made them seek shelter in a system of caves. Max wouldn't let him go exploring because spelunking is dangerous without the right equipment, but Alec had promptly ignored her and she had no choice but to follow him and the cave-in had been entirely unexpected and totally his fault. The fresh water stream and the small, translucent fish and the only mostly non-hallucinogenic mushrooms had supplied them with just enough nourishment in the week that it took Logan to find them and dig them out.

"Why is everything purple?" Alec kept asking.

"I told you not to eat the mushrooms!" She hissed. Then her head cocked to the side and she stared off into the same nothingness he was currently lost in. "Besides, it's not purple, it's kind of… rainbow like…"

"The cave, the gnomes, or the unicorn?"

"The hippopotamus, stupid." She'd scoffed. And then giggled. And he'd laughed at the sound of her giggle because he'd never heard it before and it was ridiculously fantastic. He caught her, pulling her in close, demanding that she do it again and Max had smiled as she realized what Alec's hard body reminded her of. A brick.

A _sexy_ brick.

But maybe that was the only mostly non-hallucinogenic mushrooms talking.

This time his glance at her parted lips was accompanied by a quick wetting of his own.

The jackhammer cutting through the rock would startle them both and send them toppling back into the stream at their feet, clearing some of the mostly-non-hallucinogenic fog. She'd popped him, water spraying, because she'd _told_ him not to eat the mushrooms, and climbed out, shivering, hoping that Logan had brought some clothes or a security blanket or something. But all he brought was Mole's old unit mate who was just as much of a smirking bastard as the reptilian transhuman waiting in Seattle.

"Do you think fate is trying to tell us something?" Alec had asked when they'd gotten back to T.C. Max had tensed at his question, but Alec had continued on, oblivious. "That we need a vacation or something?"

Max had scoffed, returning to her paperwork.

She was understandably wary when she got the call about the Psy Op's trannie holed up in the Bayous of Louisiana. She considered not going, considered not taking Alec… But who was she kidding. She went and she took Alec.

And the river craft had wrecked almost immediately and they'd spent almost four days in some creepy, ramshackle wooden dwelling on stilts, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by water, with a lady that had an odd fascination with chickens' feet. The lady had disappeared the morning of the second day with a command for them to be "good now, y'hear?" and hadn't been back since. She took the chicken feet with her, for which they were grateful, right before they wondered how the hell she was navigating around in a swamp full of gators without a boat.

The bed was little more than white sheets and pillows thrown upon the ground and a mosquito net hanging around it, but Max had claimed it first.

And she'd been unnerved, while combing through her hair, to glance up and catch sight of Alec through the mosquito netting, lounging in the doorway, his face completely expressionless as he watched her. The brush had stilled and for a moment she wondered if he'd cross the distance…

But then he'd swallowed, glancing away, and forced cheer. "Don't leave any hair behind. That creepy old lady might come back and make a voodoo doll of you."

The brush got caught up in the netting and so didn't hit him, but he'd been on his way back into the main room anyway, to attempt sleep in an uncomfortable chair that seemed to be made out of alligator skin and stuffed with, go figure, chicken feathers.

The woman reappeared on the fourth day with Logan in tow, her eyes flicking over the barely rumpled sheets and Max was almost worried that she was looking for hair. But then she'd cackled, giving Max a wide, gap-toothed grin.

"Girly, just 'cuz someone tells you to be good…" She'd cackled again, saying something about 'if _I_ was young again' and then another something about 'hot damn,' as Alec'd stretched lean muscles and Max had been so thoroughly creeped out, she'd pulled Alec out of there as fast as transgenically possible, flying right by Logan's exclamations of relief and the Psy Op's trannie's introduction.

Maybe Alec was right… maybe fate was conspiring against them… trying to get them to take breaks.

Or maybe fate just really, really had it in for her, she realized, shivering in a corner of an Inuit longhouse in the snowy tundra of Northeast Canada. Really, they should have expected the blinding, howling snowstorm while looking for that snow-white transgenic, but still…

His warmth was a welcome relief but every shift of his body against her back sent another jolt of electricity straight to her thighs.

"How long we been here?" She chattered through not-quite-blue-but-soon lips. He didn't answer 'cuz she already knew; less than a day. He pulled another thick fur over their bodies, pushing away from her, and she started to protest, but his hand closed around her shoulder and he rolled her gently towards him, pressing his front against hers, tucking her head under his chin, letting their legs tangle together. The freezing cold became a non-issue as her body reversed course and headed towards liquid heat.

The thick brown furs tickled her cheek as she looked up at him. "Alec…"

His fingers trailed slowly, almost hesitantly, down her spine, his eyes caught in hers, and for a moment she wondered if he'd make love to her under some furs in the shadows of the corner of that longhouse and god help her, she just didn't care if anyone _did_ walk in, because she didn't know if she'd ever needed anyone so badly before in her life.

Then the noise of something outside, something that sounded remarkably similar to the snowmobiles parked outside, the same snowmobiles that'd broken down outside of the dwelling within minutes of the icy storm's start, had them separating, well aware of who'd be coming through the door.

Yeah. Fate totally had it in for her.

So when Logan cornered her, telling her about the possibility of a cure, she'd backed away from him in horror.

"No way in hell!"

"Max," He was shocked, unable to find any other word past the monotone repetition of her name.

"I am not getting on a cruise liner to Australia! Knowing my luck, it'll explode and Alec and I will get stranded on a deserted island and we'll finally be forced to have hate-fueled sex right before we realize we're crazy about each other!"

Logan's mouth dropped open. "What was that?!"

She glanced away. "For example…"

Logan just made little horrified noises in the back of his throat.

"What's this about Australia?" Alec peered around the door.

"We're not going to Australia!" She hissed.

"But Max," Logan protested. "The cure!"

"We're going on vacation!" Max declared. Alec blinked at her in confusion. Logan made little 'garbelldygookfoosah' noises.

"A vacation?" Alec's mouth twisted in confusion. "To where?"

She snagged him by the collar, pulling him out of command. "Your apartment. And we're not coming out for at least a week."

Her cheek pressed against his door, her harsh cries filling the room, his arms braced around her, her body clenching around him, his hot, pained whispers at her back, fuck, Max, so _fucking_ good, and Max decided two weeks would probably be best for everyone involved.


	9. WX

A/N: Like I was tellin' FiveofFive… This is why sleep deprivation is bad. Plus, I still wasn't feelin' like writing anything angsty. Eh, what can you do. SOOO… (Takes a deep breath)…

THANKS TO: p3karen, spinx (hells yeah, sign me up too!), fiveoffive, quirks (alpha might be an easy one to write, but what about somethin' like kappa?), DA4Life, Ty3, erkith (sorry, I missed your name the first time around, so extra LOVE for you), ariana, chica (I'm sensin' some Jack/Jess love), Ashley (I'd kill for one of Max's Tuesdays), wrenbailey (what would you do if Logan interrupted your Alec lovins' time?), happycabbage75 (you already know you rule, 'nough said), vintage.soul, reader, yokoyuygal, MA4ever, chance32, aaaaaaaaand tvmaniac.

(Takes another breath)

Only 2 more after this!

W - T

X - K+

* * *

_Wager_

* * *

"Two weeks."

She paused, thinking about it. "What do I get if I win?"

"I'll stop giving you shit about Logan and actually pretend to be the perfect, putzy boyfriend." He smiled, slowly, knowin' she'd have a hard time resisting. "I'll even put up with lookin' like a chump in front of all T.C.; won't say a word 'bout you two doe-eyeing."

Tempting.

"And what do you get if you win?" She asked in distrust.

He stared hard at her for a long, silent moment. Then he grinned. "You're my slave for a month."

Max scoffed. "Yeah right!"

"Hey, I'll be nice and even keep up with your charade, keep pretendin' to be your boyfriend." He protested, 'cuz he was such a nice guy. She opened her mouth, but he continued, warning, "But I'll keep treatin' the situation the way I have been the last couple of months. Including insulting Logan, calling you Baby-cakes, and using every chance I get to interrupt your time together to make comments about your boobs."

Max scowled, ignoring that part for now. "I'm not gonna be your slave,"

"Make me a better offer," He retaliated. "I'm offering my services as a blind, retard boyfriend until you guys find the cure, you decide that honesty is actually a good thing in a relationship, or until I leave Seattle; whichever comes first."

Max froze, and if you'd have asked her, she wouldn't have been able to tell you which part of that statement had pissed her off more; the insinuation that her relationship with Logan was immature, or that he could up and leave their home.

But still… It'd be great to not have to worry about the situation of the previous week repeating itself… if Alec would just play along with her lie, but play ineptly enough that she and Logan could still hold a conversation over some pasta and wine without him barging into her new apartment, catching sight of Logan, smirking, and asking the older man how much longer he'd be there, 'cuz he needed some ass… She could still kill Alec every time she thought about that night. Maybe the wager would be worth it.

It wasn't really a wager. It was more of a _series_ of wagers that'd been building up slowly over the course of long, boring months stuck behind a barricade, only able to get out when dealin' with Eyes Only crap.

When she'd dragged him along on another mission and he'd hissed in annoyance. "Bet you can't turn down any of his missions,"

"Please," Max had snorted, peering around the next corner, falling very still as he pressed against her to get a peek as well. "I could totally. "

"Hell," He hissed, a few days later, when they were stuck in another closet. "I bet you couldn't say no to him in general."

"I can say no any time I want," She hissed back, pressing herself into the wall to avoid his hips against her ass.

Her hand had caught him upside the head, a week after that. "I bet _you_ couldn't live without sex for two weeks,"

The redhead he'd been chatting up had blanched as Max had appeared and moved on quickly and he'd scowled because he had to watch that fabulous piece of tail move away. Then he got another hit upside the head when Max turned to follow his gaze and saw what he was watching.

"I bet you couldn't live without making cow eyes at Logan. Hell, I bet you couldn't even live without speaking to him on the vidphone during a two week period." He retaliated, after her video angst fest was over later that same day.

"Well, I bet you couldn't be nice to him," When Logan stormed away after Alec had made another snide remark about the man's robotic apparatus.

So here they were, mulling over the list of compiled bets, the terms of the wagers, and the…

"What the hell is that?" Max demanded.

He shook the hanger in his hand, making what little there was of the outfit sway. "This? This is what you'll be wearing when you do my dishes."

"First of all, no way in hell!" She ripped the skimpy maid's outfit away from him, glancing down at it in disgust. "Secondly…" She trailed off, her mouth twisting in confusion. "How the hell did you know what size I am?"

That slow smirk as his eyes glanced down, caressing the length of her body. She scoffed in disgust, tossing the outfit back at him.

"You haven't even seen the shoes, yet!" He protested, controlling his laughter, as she stormed out of his apartment.

"Week's not even started, buddy!" She shouted.

He showed her the shoes halfway through the two weeks, and only narrowly dodged one of the dark, spiked, patent-leather heels as it was lobbed at his head.

Alec wasn't stupid. Even if he did win the wager, which he was well on his way to doing despite monumental horniness, but hey, that was a constant in his life these days, he knew she'd never live up to her end of the agreement. And Alec was gonna win, he knew, as Logan was getting increasingly frustrated with Max's constant refusals and her resolve was weakening in the face of Logan's icy cold disapproval.

But still, the whole thing had been worth it just to see the look on her face as he'd held up the costume. Even more worth it, 'cuz he already knew what he was going to demand of her when she refused to be his domestic slave.

But nuthin' was nowhere near as great as her expression when he showed her the matching lace underwear about two days away from the end of the bet.

No... wait... Nothing could even come close to comparing to this little scene he'd walked in on, less than 24 hours away from the end of the wager.

Max fell still as she felt Alec enter the room. "Umm… sorry, Logan. I can't do it."

"What? But I thought-"

"Well, you know... busy and all that," Max interrupted, shoulders tense.

"But… I just don't understand, Max." Logan was making cow eyes at her. "How could you _be_ this way? I thought you _cared_."

"I do care," She grumped, her face very, very unhappy, and she wasn't making doe eyes yet, but Alec could tell she was cracking from his spot by the door. Either that or she was gettin' pissed at Logan. Nah, couldn't be that.

"Then why won't you help me out with this one little thing? Just because you're dating Alec now doesn't mean you have to stop caring about doing the right thing."

Max's face twisted a bit more, controlling her expression, well aware that Alec was only a few yards away. Alec held his breath in glee.

"Come on, Max, just help me out with this criminal drug ring and I'll get off your back." Logan was getting frustrated, so Alec figured he could step in now and play the good guy, like he'd told her he would in the terms of the bet.

"Hey, Logan," Alec said with aching, effulgent niceness. Max's back tensed. Logan frowned, still remarkably unnerved at how nice Alec had been treating him the last one week and six days. Alec glanced at Max. "What's this I hear about a drug ring, Maxie?"

Max ground her teeth.

Logan glanced back at the fuming woman. "It's nothing," He finally said. "Max won't help anyway."

"She won't?" Alec asked in dismay, glancing again at Logan. "But it's for the good of the city!"

"I know," Logan frowned. "But Max doesn't think so."

"Aww, c'mon, honey, why don't you just tell Logan 'yes'?" Alec asked. Logan glanced at the taller man in surprise, wondering if maybe he'd been a bit wrong about Alec.

"Because," Max said through clenched teeth. Because Alec was standing right there and the clock was ticking and she only had to make it another 24 hours, providing Alec didn't find out about-

"But what about that job you pulled for me last night? What's so different between that one and this one?" Logan demanded and Max's eyes widened. "Besides, you were more than willing to help me out when I called you on the vidphone earlier."

Logan didn't know why Alec was laughing so hard, but he knew that something he said had pissed Max off greatly, so he got the hell out of there.

"Don't think I'm wearing that little uniform," She hissed at him.

"Please, I knew you'd never be able to last," Alec scoffed. "You've got this weird, desperate need to please Logan, which, hey, that's your deal." He paused. "So, I've got a little way out for you."

"A way out of being your slave?" She asked, eyes narrowed in wariness, wonderin' if maybe she wouldn't have to beat him up after all, 'cuz they both knew there was no way in hell she was wearin' that little french maid outfit.

"Yup, just tell Logan the truth about us and let me get on with my life," He shoved his hands into his pockets, scowling in annoyance. "'Cuz let's be honest, we both know I haven't had sex in months. Everyone's too scared of marking your territory."

Yes, Max had heard rumors of the sort. And she'd caught the jealous glances when she talked to Alec and the disgusted glances when she talked to Logan. But still, how could she ever admit to Logan that she'd lied to him-

"You know what," Alec interrupted her thoughts. "You don't even have to tell Logan you lied to him. Just let me tell everyone we've finally broken up."

Max scowled at him.

"Come on, Max." He whined. "I'm so frickin' horny, I could explode. I need a _real_ girlfriend."

She scowled even harder.

"So what's it gonna be?" He finally demanded. "Are you gonna let me end our relationship? Or do I have to add a nurse's uniform to my closet for when you vacuum?"

He leaned back, grinning, knowing there was no way she'd go for it. Yup, he'd be having a full and open sex life once more…

"Maaax, this isn't fair." He groaned from his spot on the couch.

Max reached for another dish. "It was your terms, stupid."

"You're _killing_ me." His eyes glanced over her shoulders, and then down at the little bit of lace peeking out of the low cut top before his eyes squeezed shut once more.

She placed the last dish on the drying rack. "I'll be back by tomorrow to vacuum," She said cheerfully. He couldn't help that his eyes followed her swishing hips in that short skirt as she walked surely out of his apartment in those spiked, patent leather heels.

Alec groaned in horror, letting his head crack back against the armrest, wondering if there was any possible way his life could get any worse.

It did, the next day. He escaped to the bathroom shortly after she started vacuuming, white fabric stretched tight as she moved, and stepped, all clothes on, into a cold shower.

He never should have made that stupid wager.

* * *

_Xerox_

* * *

It was Alec.

It was Alec in ripped, faded jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and cowboy boots.

With a large belt buckle, and a cowboy hat, lounging against a fence post, with a horse and a setting sun at his back.

But that didn't change the fact that it was Alec and why the hell was her mouth so dry?

"Where the hell did you get this?" Max demanded.

Normal held it protectively to his chest. "None of your business, Missy Miss. Don't you have work to do?"

Max tried to snap the picture away from him but he retreated into the safety of his office, and took that Xeroxed ad with him.

Which was fine, 'cuz Max snatched another copy away from Little Suki on her way to her locker.

"Hey!" The girl protested in her baby-doll voice.

"Aren't you a lesbian now?" Max shot back.

More than one male head turned to follow the exchange at the uttering of the L-word. Suki probably noticed, 'cuz she smiled slyly. "There's some things worth crossing over for." And the smaller woman ripped the photo away from Max and escaped with it to her next run, full hips and long dark hair swaying.

"Even you got one?" Max whined.

O.C. blinked. "Did you just wh-"

"I just want to know why everyone seems to have a Xeroxed photo of Alec playing Wyatt Earp." Max grouched.

O.C. shrugged, balling up the piece of paper and tossing it over her shoulder, pretending she hadn't seen Max's eyes follow its arc to its spot on the ground. Max scooted near it, but it had rolled and bounced against Lorraina's foot. The blonde picked it up with a frown.

"Hey, who's throwin' their trash-" Lorraina trailed off as she unrumpled the photo and got a look at what it was. She cleared her throat. "Umm… That's okay." She squeaked. "I'll just…" Her eyes darted around. And she escaped with the photo that Max had been angling for.

She scowled after the blonde, before turning back to look into O.C.'s amused stare. "What?"

"Were you just tryin' to get a copy of Hot Boy playin' Cowboy?"

"No!" Max replied in horror. "I just… I mean…" Her voice firmed as she frowned and said convincingly, "It's probably something illegal and dangerous and-"

"Hey ladies," Sketch plunked onto the bench, thumbing through some cash.

"Dang Sketchy, who you been rippin' off?"

Sketchy smiled at O.C. "This is my rent money. My good buddy Alec loaned it to me-"

Max snatched the magazine out of his bag. "What the hell is this?"

"Huh?" Sketchy glanced at the opened, folded magazine.

It was more of Cowboy Alec, but it was a real photo, from a real magazine, and this time he had his shirt off. And it was in color.

O.C. whistled, low, and Max suddenly felt a presence at her back. More than one presence, actually.

"Clear off," She hissed, stuffing the mag into her bag. The gaggle of females "ahhed" and finally slouched away, dejected.

"That?" Sketchy shrugged. "It's mine." Then he glanced around. "Just don't let Normal get a hold of it again. He already grabbed it from me once and I risked my job to get it back. But I figured I owed it to Alec to get it away from the guy before he could Xerox any more copies."

When Max was sure there were no more crazy females around, she pulled the men's clothing mag back out from her backpack. 'Wranglers,' she feigned interest in the brand, before she glanced over the prices, pretending more interest in that then glistening, tan-

"Where'd you get that?"

Max hid the photo against her chest at the keen longing in Normal's voice.

"Nowhere…"

Normal glanced around. "You, reprobate!" He grabbed Skye, tearing off his headset and handing it to the short, bald man. "Watch the station, I've got to get to a newsstand."

O.C. snorted as Normal high tailed it out of there. "Ten bucks sez he buys every male clothing catalog there is, 'til he finds the one Hot Boy is in."

"Since when has Alec been modeling?" Max asked, dismayed, glancing again at the photo.

"Since you told me I couldn't steal from good guys anymore and that only you were allowed to steal from bad guys," Alec was lounging against the lockers at her back. "Figured I should use _something_ of what Manticore gave me to make money." She turned to look at him in that lazy pose and thought of a horse and a setting sun and her face colored.

He looked away from her before he noticed the light pink across her cheeks, thank god. "What I wanna know is where everyone is getting the Xeroxed copies from," He sniffed, coloring lightly under his freckles.

"Where do you think?" O.C. demanded.

Sketchy glanced around nervously.

"Sketchy," Alec sounded betrayed.

"I was just lookin' for some jeans and then Normal saw it and took it away before I could even say anything," Sketchy replied, dismayed. "And then some of the girls figured out what he was photocopying, and then they all wanted one too. At least I got it back before he realized what magazine it was or that there were shirtless photos of you in the back."

"I feel violated." Alec muttered.

"God, I can't believe you, Alec." Max hissed in disgust

Alec rolled his eyes, turning back to look at Max. "Oh, now what."

"Modeling? With Manticore and White gunning for you-"

"Max, somehow I don't think White is browsing through magazines, lookin' for men's jeans." He frowned at her. "Just face it, you're not happy unless you're bitching at me for something." He sniffed, turned on his heel, and left.

"That jerk," Max muttered.

O.C. was staring blandly at her.

"What?"

"Honey, he finally be doin' somethin' legal to make money and you still complainin'? Hey, maybe his career will take off and he won't have to work here anymore and we won't have to be bothered by him-"

Max stood, unhappily, following Alec into the room that held the Xerox machine.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"Trying to figure out a way to break it," He replied, from his crouched position before it. "Preferably before Normal gets back. But without making it seem like someone broke it."

His crouched position reminded her of cowboy boots and a sly grin and slick skin and there her mouth was goin' dry again, she must be dehydrated or something.

"That's easy." She replied, reaching behind the machine to unplug it. And then yanking the cord out of the back of the machine, letting the wiring fall uselessly to the floor. She discarded the destroyed remains back there as well.

"Ooooo, Normal's gonna kiilllll you," He singsonged. "You know how hard it is to replace those cords?"

"Please," She scoffed. "You were gonna break it anyway."

He shrugged.

Then glanced at the magazine, still in her hand. He made a grab for it, springing towards her, out of his crouch, but she pulled it away.

"What do you think you're doin?" She demanded.

"I've got to destroy it," He said grimly. "Something like that shouldn't be anywhere near Reagan Ronald."

Max rolled her eyes and stalked out of the Xerox-machines hidey hole. The Xerox machine that would no longer be distributing evidence of Alec's new job to every femal- that is, every government agency… Umm… Yeah, it just wasn't gonna be distributin' nothin' no more.

"Max, are you gonna give me that magazine back or what?" Sketchy asked. "It's mine, y'know?"

She shoved it into her backpack. "Men," She snorted, grabbing her packages from the bench and taking off.

"Women," Alec huffed, watching her trail off with the evidence of his new job. He stomped back towards the bathroom.

"Heteros," O.C. rolled her eyes, zipping up her own bag.


	10. YZ

A/N: Aaaaaaaaand I'm spent. No more writing M/A ever...

…

…

Yeah right, like I could resist the draw of more Max Alec-y goodness. And I swear, it's not that I purposefully leave my drabbles trailing off (as I have been accused :-p) It's just that I'm giving you snapshots of possible alternatives… It's not like I'm planning on expanding or anything. (whistles innocently)

Reviewers rule! Thanks Nic (look, look, I waited for you! Oh, wait…), FiveofFive, quirks, wrenbailey, happycabbage75 (I'm hopin' it's DA and I can't wait!), tvmaniac, chica, nayski (I am workin' on Quarantine, but I'm working on like 4 other fics too so it might be a little while), JG, Ashley, p3karen, ariana, purplespinx, and nachtregen (woo, double reviews! Thx!). And to everyone who reviewed throughout the course of this fic, whether ya got a shout-out in the last couple of chapters or not, and to anyone who might review after it has ended; thanks a whole bunch! WOO! I'm such a fangirl; reviews make me squeal!

So, thanks again, Nic, for letting me do this! I had a blast! Remind me to add another candle to my altar of nickeldime17 love, later. (glances around) Not... that I have one of those or anything...

Y- T+ (a rating I stole from Nic :P)

Z - T

* * *

_Yawn_

* * *

"Knock it off," She hissed.

"I can't help it," He spoke around the yawn, rubbing at tired eyes. It was probably the third in a row, and it grated on her nerves. Or maybe it was the reason behind his yawns that was annoying her.

"Uhh, yeah, you can." She countered, "Just tell them no next time." Her look of incredulous disgust turned back into the typical glare that had never really fazed him to begin with, so he wasn't really sure why she bothered.

"Yeah right!" Alec exclaimed in dismay, hands falling back to his sides. "You try tellin' a dominant female that you don't want any, see how well it goes over."

Max rolled her eyes, leaning against the counter, arms folding across her chest, hands burrowing into the warmth of her favorite fluffy robe.

The movement drew his attention. And then his eyes moved over her speculatively. Max's eyes widened and she made to spring away but he was on her in an instant.

"Wha- Alec… Get off!" She attempted to shove him away but his hands were fisted in her robe as he snuggled against her.

"I need to smell like you," He frowned, burrowing tighter against her front and she gasped at the sudden ache that couldn't be arousal. If Alec noticed a change, he didn't mention it, 'cuz he was still frowning in annoyance as her pressed himself against her, hope creeping in to his voice. "Maybe they'll leave me alone if they think that I'm makin' it with their Commanding Officer."

But his words were punctuated by another yawn, and he was just too tired, so Max was finally able to shove him off despite his greater stature. Max glared, annoyed at him, pissed at Marcy and Janna, and, as usual, hating Manticore.

Manticore had mirrored the animal kingdom a little too closely on this one. Did the strongest male out-perform the strongest female? Yeah, maybe. Did many of the X-males have greater physical capabilities than the females? Possibly. Did the alpha males get the pick of girls? Definitely. But if it came down to two X's of equal dominance but opposite sex, it was the woman who'd reign supreme in the end. At the end of the day, it was the females who were in charge because it was the females who called the shots on the where and the when and the who was going to be getting play.

And Alec, being so dominant, had been happy about that animal kingdom mirror at first, 'cuz he found himself exceedingly popular. Then two of the most alpha females, voluptuous, tooth-ache sweet, red-headed Marcy and slow-smiling, wolf-eyed, leggy blonde Janna, had taken an interest in him, and now he was stuck in the middle of a full-fledged mate war, being sent from one bed to the other night after night as the two almost equal females vied for supremacy and the eventual right to Mate with him. Not that he was even ready to settle down, from what he'd said (whined) to Max earlier that week. If he wasn't such a pig, and a coward to boot, Max would have felt sorry for him and his droopy, unhappy eyes.

"I don't even like them," He'd insisted when he'd shown up on her doorstep, interrupting her in the middle of her frickin' bath, only ten minutes ago.

"Yeah, right," Max had scoffed, flipping wet hair over her shoulder. "You shouldn't have flirted with them, then." She'd left it unsaid that he sure as hell shouldn't have _slept_ with them. Jerk.

"Okay, fine," He'd grumped, rubbing at shadowed eyes. "Maybe I liked them at first… Before they started treating me like a piece of meat."

He'd sounded so insulted, Max hadn't been able to resist snorting, but she'd let him in her apartment anyway. It was weird how she always did that… always let him shove himself into her life. It was his frickin' problem, she should have left him out there in the hallway, let him clean up his own mess.

Whatever. It's not like taking care of him wasn't already her full-time job. Right after taking care of T.C., of course.

Anyway, now, here they were, lounging in her kitchen well after midnight; him, downing cups of coffee like a junkie getting his fix, and Max just glaring at him, thinking of her cooling bathwater, straightening her robe from his attempted scent-fest.

He paused in his coffee guzzling to glance over the blue robe, eyes sparking in interest. "Hey, are you naked under there?"

"Did you not catch the part where I said I was taking a bath?" She hissed. His next move came so far from left field, Max's brain went straight out the window and took all of her annoyance with it.

He put down the half-empty mug and took a sauntering step towards her. He reached out and Max fell still as he fingered the collar of the blue robe, a slow smile warming his face.

"Can I see?"

A slight throb between her legs. And then a scowl. He _would_ think that was funny, wouldn't he? What a frickin' guy.

"You've got to be kidding me." She rolled her eyes, turning away to shove the yellow kettle closer to the center of the burner. Stupid frickin' sexual frustration. Sometimes it sucked having a boyfriend you couldn't touch-

Max froze when Alec crowded against her back, long fingers trailing slowly down the soft edges of the collar, down and down, as his head craned over her shoulder.

Max popped one of his hands as they neared her breasts, her heart thudding wildly in her chest as she pressed into the stove and away from him. "What the hell, Alec! Are you trying to sneak a peek?"

He grunted, shrugging, and she felt the movement of muscle against her back, a wash of warm air across her neck. Then he grinned wolfishly, pulling away. "Just a little joke, Maxie. 'Sides, you know me. I'm a slave to the Y chromosome." He turned away, not even flinching as she whirled and her fist caught him in the bicep.

Payback for the punch came as he was stalking away, towards the bathroom. He threw over his shoulder, his voice light and his eyes dark, "Nice new perfume, you got there, _Max_." His tongue caressed her name. "It suits you."

She froze, just for a moment, her face draining of color.

Guess it was too much to ask that he wouldn't have been able to smell the signs of her body's sudden, traitorous awakening. Or, at the very least, for him to pretend like he hadn't noticed. Shit.

By the time she'd rushed back to herself, bringing a blush of red with her, he'd shut the bathroom door behind him. Not that it mattered, she didn't have anything non-breakable near enough to fling at him anyway. She would just have to make due with glaring across the room at the closed barrier instead. Especially when she heard his snort of laughter and, "Bubbles?"

Max's glare fell away and she heaved a sigh in annoyance. That's what she gets for havin' someone like Alec as one of her best friends.

And the water came to a boil after that, anyway, so it's not like she could follow him and kick his ass or anything. She removed the shrieking kettle from the burner just as he was stalking out of the bathroom, skin still shimmering, proof of the water he'd splashed against his face to clear some of the sleepy, and maybe something else, fog.

He leaned against the counter, watching her silently as she poured the steaming water into the coffee mugs, as she set it aside, as she pulled a spoon from the drawer to add more of that instant crap that he couldn't stand but that was better than nothin'.

His casual demand made all thought and movement screech to a halt.

"Mate with me."

"What?!" The spoon fell from nerveless fingers, clattering to the countertop.

"You heard me."

She turned to stare at him in wide-eyed shock.

He was still leaning against the counter, still watching her, eyes unreadable. "Just claim me for a week or whatever. Just enough time for me to recuperate. Then," He shrugged, "When the week is over… you can revoke your claim. Maybe I'll get lucky and Marcy and Janna will have moved on by then."

So that's what this was about. Max rolled her eyes, "Alec-"

"Max, I'm frickin' exhausted," He pleaded, proof of how serious he really was, and Max released the unexplainable anger to just stare, expressionless, at him. "I'm worthless as your second when I can barely even hold my eyes open."

"I'm not gonna-"

"I'm not asking for the benefits," He frowned. "I'm asking for some frickin' sleep and for your help, as a friend. The only way Janna and Marcy will give up is if someone more dominant than them stakes a claim. And I gotta tell you, there's not very many females who outrank them." He left it unsaid that she was one of the few that did, because they'd already been over all this at the beginning of the siege, well over six months ago.

Her gaze moved over his hunched shoulders, his hunted look, and even exhausted and unhappy, his presence fairly filled the room. As dominant as they come, a good S.I.C., and, surprisingly, one of her best friends… A girl could do worse.

Not that this was gonna be permanent or anything.

He was opening his mouth, with another wheedling reason on why she should do as he asked, when her hands fisted in his sweater and she yanked him to her, her teeth descending into his neck before she'd even really thought it through.

His eyes rolled back into his head and only her tightened grip kept him from crashing to his knees. She lowered him, slowly, gently, the rest of the way to the ground, following him down, straddling him, the slight, metallic tang of blood on her tongue. Her teeth released his flesh, her tongue glancing lightly against the wound, and her lips moved wetly over the mark before she pulled away from him completely. When she released her hold on his front, he collapsed backwards, crashing to the floor. She blushed, settling back against his hips.

"Alec-"

"Gimme a minute," His breathing was ragged and it only took Max another moment, a slight pause, and a slow roll of her hips to realize what exactly it was she was pressing against.

"Fuck, Max, don't _move_!" He grunted, his teeth gritting together.

Her face deepened some more as she stilled, scowling at him. "Honestly, I'm amazed you can even get it up, the way you've been jumping from bed to bed each night."

He glanced up at her through thick lashes, a slight, wicked smirk twisting the corner of full lips. "Me too," Then his eyes moved over her thighs in dark appreciation and Max had to glance down to ensure the robe was still covering all the necessary spots. It was… at least it was until his hands gripped her knees, slid slowly up the length of her thighs. The silence in the apartment was overwhelming as her head fell back, her eyes closing, as he pushed the robe away from her body.

"Jesus, Max." He sounded pained.

"Max!" They both fell still as someone pounded on the door. Crap. Max recognized that throaty voice. "Max, open up!"

She pulled away from him quickly, straightening her robe and rising to her feet, pretending like she hadn't heard his head crack against the linoleum floor as he made a noise akin to agony. Part of her wondered if his frustration was due to the interruption or because of who that voice belonged to. Not that she cared, 'cuz that whole thing had been a monumental mistake brought on by the weird animal feelings of her teeth closing around his skin. She took a deep breath, checked her robe one more time, and crossed the distance to the front door and a situation she didn't really feel like dealin' with.

"This has got to stop," Janna hissed as soon as the door was open, shooting a heated glance at Marcy. "Max, will you just tell her that I'm more dominant."

"Yeah, right," The short, voluptuous red-head rolled her eyes. "He belongs to me."

Then they both turned to look at Max, frowning, and Max sighed, pressing a tired hand to her eyes. Being one of the most alpha females, and the leader of T.C. to boot, could be such a frickin' hassle sometimes.

"Why are you even arguing about this?" Max frowned, still squeezing the bridge of her nose. "Just find someone else-"

"We don't want anyone else." Janna interrupted.

"Which one of us gets him," Marcy demanded and Max's hand fell away as she looked up at them, eyes narrowed. Piece of meat, indeed.

"I'm not King Solomon," She hissed.

"Yeah, but you're the Alpha-" And then Janna's nose twitched slightly as she caught the sharp tang of Alec's scent, and something slight and warm underneath, before her eyes narrowed in interest. "Is Alec here?"

Marcy perked up, her emerald eyes lighting in joy.

"Don't even look like that," Janna frowned, brown eyes still narrowed, but now in annoyance. "You had him last night."

"Yeah and-"

"And I'm having him tonight," Max interrupted, pushing down the rage that hazed the edge of her vision. The two women fell still and turned to look at her in shock.

Alec glanced around the corner of the door, eyes lit in something akin to glee. "Hello, ladies." He waved slightly as their eyes focused in on his neck, and the red, raw imprint of teeth.

The two women stared dumbfounded at the spot he'd been in, long after he'd moved back into the apartment, headed towards her bedroom, whistling. Then both their heads whipped back to Max's once more bland expression, the warm, musky scent in the air taking on a whole new, unexpected, and unpleasant meaning.

Marcy scowled, turned on her heel, and stomped off.

Janna's eyes narrowed. "I'll see you in Command tomorrow," She hissed before she whirled and stormed away. And if that wasn't a challenge, Max didn't know what was.

Well…

Shit.

Max closed the door gently. "You better be worth it, Pretty Boy," She muttered to herself, moving towards the darkened bedroom that Alec had disappeared into.

"Alec," She crossed the darkness, moving towards the bed, pretending like her mind wasn't still on their encounter on the floor of the kitchen. "I hope you realize what your sleep is costin' me. One of your skank-ho's just freaking challenged me to a mate-"

And she trailed off in disappointment.

"Alec?" She moved on to the bed and crawled over him just to be sure. He didn't even stir, his breathing even, body relaxed in slumber.

Well…

Shit.

Again.

She collapsed to her butt at his side, staring balefully at the mark on his neck.

And with the desire clearing, wondering if she'd made a huge mistake.

Whatever. It was only for a week. And she'd explain the situation to Logan and he'd get over it. And she'd wipe the floor with Janna and she'd get over it. And she'd avoid Alec and Alec's all too willing body like the plague and he'd get over it too.

Max only hoped that _she'd_ be able to get over it.

Max's thoughts were punctuated by a yawn and rather than roll him out of bed, she collapsed at his side instead. It'd been a long week, dealing with T.C., and Alec, and White, and Logan, and the two alpha females that Max had been in no way jealous of. Seemed like a two-hour nap was in order.

In the misty haze of near sleep, it didn't occur to Max that it'd be wrong to nuzzle at the mark on his skin, the mark that didn't really mean anything. That it wasn't anything but natural that his arms would come up around her.

Just a week, she told herself with another yawn, nestling into his body.

* * *

_Zipper_

* * *

"Tell me again why Logan can't do it."

Max scowled. "I'm not going through a sewer, around a police barricade, and all the way across town just so he can take a few pictures of something that he'll just have to send back here anyway."

"You're avoiding him again, aren't you?" Alec asked flatly.

Max didn't dignify that with a response, just stood there, impatiently, the glow of the setting sun through the grungy window haloing across her hair.

Alec sighed. "Fine. Whatever." He stood from the chair, twirled it around to offer it to her. "Let's get this over with."

Max sank down across the seat, her arms coming up to fold across the back of the rickety, plastic chair. And sat there, waiting. She glanced back at him in confusion.

His back was to her as he fiddled with the digital camera, offering her a semblance of privacy. When he realized she wasn't doing much moving, he glanced at her quickly, questioningly, before looking away and asking, "You need to take off your shirt or something?"

She cleared her throat, turning back to stare again at the peeling paint of this abandoned office's wall. She cleared her throat. "It zips."

Alec paused in what he was doing to turn and look at her. "Zips?"

She pulled long, dark hair forward over her shoulder, displaying the zipper that ran the length of the black turtleneck's back. "Zips," She confirmed.

Alec swallowed, eyes widening for only a moment before he schooled his expression back into neutrality. When she'd told him he'd be taking pictures of the newest runes, he'd known it'd be bad enough to be faced with that much skin. But she hadn't mentioned he'd actually have to participate in the actual removal of clothing… This… This might be harder than he'd thought.

"Some time today, would be great," She scowled, glaring back at him.

"Yeah… Right... Sorry." He cleared his throat, crossing to her, sinking down into a crouch behind the chair, fingers reaching for the collar of the dark mock turtleneck and the task that could prove to be his undoing.

The sound of the zipper fairly filled the room, rushed to fill every corner, every niche, every cranny, and was amplified back to them tenfold.

"That's far enough." Her whisper was harsh in the near silence as warm knuckles grazed the small of her back.

"Right… Sorry." He cleared his throat again, wondering why he couldn't stop apologizing.

His touch was feather-light across her skin, hands gliding under the gaping back of the turtleneck, pushing the dark material forward and over her shoulders. His finger hooked under her bra strip, slid up its length to her shoulder, and he lifted it slowly, almost reverently, away from her skin. She shifted.

"Hurry it up," She hissed in something that sounded like discomfort.

"Sorry." He breathed.

"And stop apologizing." Her jaw clenched and she focused on the peeling paint across the room. Better that then the feel of fingers, skin, touch, warm, god, sliding across her shoulder, as he brought up the camera to begin the documentation of the newest runes upon her body. With each moment, each movement, each click of the camera, something became overwhelmingly clear.

She didn't know if she could do this.

Painful grasping, she could have done. Powerful, bruising force would have been doable. Smart ass remarks, she could have handled. Anything but this… This hesitant, unsure, gentle, quiet, jumpy version of Alec… She didn't know how to handle him when he was like this.

This was almost as awkward as the last time, a little over a month ago, that Logan had photographed the runes for her. She was even wearing the same shirt as that other, mirrored encounter. And, like last time, she was all out of sorts and squirming like nobody's business.

But before, where Max had squirmed away from the feel of latex, so alien, foreign, unpleasant, upon her skin, now she was straining away from skin and warmth and _feeling_-

She stood abruptly and Alec had to lean backwards a bit to avoid her ass in his face. "Maybe I should just go to Logan's after all." She shoved the dark material back over her shoulders.

She glanced down at him, at the expression she could have named want-need-disgust-dismay if only the English language would have allowed it. She watched the light of sudden understanding dawn in his eyes before he shut it all down and his expression became bland.

"Yeah, that's probably for the best." He stood slowly, but did not pull away, and she had to lean forward, against the chair's back, to escape the heat radiating from his body, the heat she could feel so clearly on the exposed skin of her back, the heat she shouldn't even be able to feel at this distance.

"It's probably _safer_ at Logan's." His voice was still very, very neutral.

She pulled herself off of the chair, an awkward movement because of his close proximity, and turned to scowl at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me," He countered, his expression unchanging.

She glared at him, at the unspoken challenge. Before her hands went around to the small of her back and lowered the dark zipper the rest of the way down. It was with only a hint of vindictive satisfaction that she noted he couldn't keep his eyes on her face as she pulled the turtleneck forward, over her shoulders, and off her body.

Alec tried to cover by letting his eyes move across the runes below her collarbone, over a few stray marks just above her bra, before traveling down to take in the markings arranged in columns across her hips, disappearing down below the waist of her jeans. He fell very, very still when her hands swept across the front of her pants, popped the button free easily. Her fingers tugged gently at her zipper, drawing his eye, before leaving it be, still fully zipped. Her hands fell back to her sides, hooking at her waist, and she stood there, waiting, challenging.

His expression turned into something she was calling lust-fear-need-nowpleasegod and to hell with the English language.

"It zips," She said simply.


End file.
